


summerhouse

by soppkjeks



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Dialogue Heavy, Eimi adopts a cat, F/F, Female Ash Lynx, Female Eiji Okumura, Fluff and Angst, Folklore, Genderbend, Lesbians ;), Magic, Minor Original Character(s), Mystery, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Swearing, WLW Couple, episode 24 didn't happen and they move away from the USA after, faeries are annoying little shits, occultism, poor attempts at humour, profanities, rating and tags will change as I make progress in the writing, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2020-11-25 21:04:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20918600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soppkjeks/pseuds/soppkjeks
Summary: The summerhouse was situated by the lake, where willows cast their dancing shadows upon the silky water.As the fog creeped upon the moor, soft wails emanated from the hallway.It always happened around this hour, around the same time the mist would be conceived. Day in, day out.The oak planks of the floor creaked as she tried to find her, the one that was lost.However, she would find herself empty-handed once again, and she knew, for that person was no longer there.The brilliance herself grew to be one with the mist, merged, and so got trapped in an endless, heart-shredding cycle of rebirth.She had no choice but to leave the poor girl behind, as she got taken away by the land itself.





	1. prologue - quod me alit, me extinguit

**Author's Note:**

> This is a basic draft of the story, I will continue to expand it and build it into a full-fledged story, don't worry. This is not a one-shot.

“Have you heard yet?”

“I’ve heard many things mate, you gotta be more specific,” says the fisherman to his friend, the town’s grocer, taking a chug of his pint.

“Another one disappeared. Vanished. Another one! I tell ya, we’re gonna run out of people in here,” the grocer says, animating his words.

“Well,” answers the gruff fisherman, “that’s what they do. People disappear easily, with the mist and all. Can’t be helped, not around these parts.”

The grocer stares into his own pint, pensive.

“She was a magnificent girl though, no wonder she got taken. The good ones always go first.”

The fisherman scoffs. "Hah!- and to where is that now?"

The grocer's face grim, as he replies.

"To wherever they take her."

Like a rain spell gradually growing in intensity, so shake the far-away cries her awake, pulling her up out of blissful, criminally sweet dreams.

Dreams that make her yearn for one that once was, but is no more. The muffled sobs are coming from the study, that is situated in the back of the summerhouse.

Despite it being called - and practically functioning - a summerhouse, it always possessed a strangely mournful atmosphere, as if a never-ending memorial service was being held. As though people who have long since passed are chained to the house by regrets never cleared up.

Eimi decides that enough is enough, and she’ll go take a peek at whatever is crying its heart out at the cost of her already sparse night-time rest. As the floorboards creak under her weight, she cautiously approaches the door at the end of the main hallway. The sound grows clearer and clearer, making the realisation dawn upon her that this sound is one she’s familiar with.

Images and memories of golden-blonde hair and bright smiles flash before her eyes as recognition fills her mind. Tears well up, and she slowly steps towards the door, feet feeling like they’ve grown roots, cleaving the ground until deep into the earth. Turning the doorknob, she gingerly pushes it open to look for a source of the sound. Surprised to find that she can’t seem to spot anything out of the ordinary from her position, she enters the study to look further.

The door closes behind her. Withered sunflowers lie on top of dusty letters, written in a graceful, cursive font.

Her breath halts, as she realises that she is the only person present.

The once iridescent memories, now stained red, overtake her mind, making her fall to her knees in agony.

She’s not here, she’s gone, and nothing will ever change that.

Green light glinsters outside the window as mother night envelops the lamenting girl in her dark, soothing embrace.

Untill dawn returns to the lands once more.

_.That which nourishes me, extinguishes me_


	2. langt langt borte saa han noget lyse og glitre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eimi relives a scene of the past, and truth rears its ugly head.

The tender touch of the sun gently awakens the girl from her slumber on the study’s floor, illuminating dust specks in the air.

Eimi lifts her head to look around, with swollen eyes, feeling mildly confused.

“Why am I?...”

_…Oh._

_Right._

Remembering the night that since passed, she gathers her thoughts and attempts to stand up, until she notices that something is hindering her from doing so.

There was a blanket draped over her body. A blanket she knows all too well.

Puzzled, she tries to figure out what made it change its location from the chair to her lap, but can’t seem to think of a logical answer.

What she does find however, is a certain repressed memory.

“You’re still here?” the girl says, leaning on the side of the door frame.

Her eyes are focused on the person sitting at the desk, bent over a dusty book that most certainly is ancient, incredibly so.

The focus of her attention turns around with a confused look in her eyes, face adorned with gold-rimmed spectacles.

“Still? What do you mean? I’ve only been here for about…Oh,” the other girl utters, realising that she got lost in the depths of time and space once again.

“Your sense of linear time truly is fucked up, Aislinn,” Eimi chuckles.

Aislinn pouts, yet can’t manage hiding the flush on her cheeks and nose.

Eimi starts: “Aren’t you cold? This is the chilliest place in the house, and you haven’t even moved from the same spot for what? Five hours?”

“It isn’t…_that_ bad…” Aislinn mumbles, but her slight shiver and purple lips betray her.

Eimi smiles, although slight worry decorates her face.

“Hold on.”

She quickly goes to the bedroom to fetch one of the extra blankets they keep, for the house doesn’t have central heating.

_Thank the gods we at least have a hearth, _Eimi thinks to herself.

She returns to the study, where she puts the blanket around a bewildered nerd.

“Here you go,” Eimi says, teasing: “I sure wonder when my darling will grow independent enough to take care of herself, hmm?”

Offended, Aislinn retorts, a little too loud to be considered cool: “I am VERY MUCH capable of doing so, THANK you!”

Eimi’s laughter fills the room, making Aislinn go even redder than she already was.

“Oh, would you look at that! The colour of this blanket wonderfully compliments your cherry-red complexion! Toootally _gorge_ queen!~”

“Wh-! Where did you even learn that kind of language? Also, my apologies to anyone who got lured in by your baby-face, thinking they’d get a cute Japanese girl, but instead were faced with this mocking monstrosity, I _truly_ am sorry!” Aislinn, now yelling, replies, very much flustered.

_This is addictive._

_I wish it could be like this forever._

“Oh? So my baby-face lured you in? Never woulda thought!~” Eimi replies, now positively grinning from ear to ear.

_Just a little more._

“Ugh…” Aislinn turns away, now so terribly embarrassed that she can’t bear to face this masterful roaster, remorseless and evil in their ways, for much longer.

_Nice. Got ‘em._

“Oh well. Would you like a cup of tea to help you with that feeling of shame, silly?”

“…Yes please,” Aislinn accepts her defeat.

Bringing in a cup of Early Grey, Eimi tries to peek at whatever Aislinn is reading that made her lose track of time for five goddamn hours straight.

“…The Malleus Maleficarum? Really?”

“What?”

“How do you even read that? You really enjoy strengthening my theory about you being a celibate powerful sorcerer from the ~_olden times~_, don’t you?”

“Latin really isn’t that hard though…Say, why do you keep referring to me with those nicknames?” Aislinn, averting her gaze nonchalantly, changes the topic, out of fear of being roasted once again.

Little does she know that one can’t possibly avoid Eimi’s skillful grasp, as she is a practiced person in the arts of mockery.

“What nicknames?” Eimi plays dumb, despite being fully aware of what Aislinn is hinting at.

“You know…You only sparsely use my actual name, and then all of the other times you call me…weird things,” Aislinn struggles to get the whole sentence out.

“Weird things? I don’t think they’re weird though?”

Aislinn looks Eimi in the eyes, trying to find even a sliver of sensibility to reason with. Too bad she’s in crazy mode, for all common sense is currently out of the window for the organism named Eimi Okumura.

“Can’t you think of a different one?” Aislinn tries anyway.

“Then…Cupcake?” Eiko feigns thinking of a fitting nickname, in actuality going in for more teasing.

“Ew,” Aislinn cringes.

“Blueberry pie.”

“…”

“Doughnut bumper.”

Aislinn’s face of disgust grows exponentially in intensity.

“Sweetie,” Eimi revels in Aislinn’s expression.

Then, she gasps.

“Oh! What about…”

Eimi theatrically clasps her hands at bust-height and continues at a higher pitch.

“My~ LoOoove~”

Aislinn sighs, “You know what, never mi-“

“Aislinn.”

This time was different, as she spoke in a lower, sensual tone of voice.

“Oh…” Aislinn audibly gasps. She did not miss the hint of passion to Eimi’s voice.

“How’s that?” Eimi asks triumphantly.

She has finally decided to put a halt to the teasing, as her victim was already too far gone for it to be still considered humane should she continue.

Although Aislinn at first looked up when Eimi said her name, she was now staring intensely at a silverfish crawling – or rather, slithering? – its way to new adventures on the floor, her hair obscuring her face.

Eimi immediately notices the sudden stillness surrounding the girl.

Getting closer, she tenderly moves away the locks of hair that are preventing her from properly seeing Aislinn’s face.

Red cheeks and downcast eyes.

“Eimi…”

It’s nothing more than a mumble, but it conveys everything that she needs to know. Well, almost everything.

“Are you okay?” her voice soft and caring.

Aislinn looks up, making eye-contact.

“I don’t know…what to do,” Aislinn’s eyes are glassy and filled with a strange kind of panic.

“You’re…still afraid of hurting me…” Eimi verbalises Aislinn’s feelings slowly.

Aislinn starts crying, softly, a sense of restraint to it.

Eimi embraces her, hoping to maybe lend some warmth to the girl she holds so dearly.

“You know you don’t have to be so cautious. It’s alright, I know you won’t hurt me. If you want something, you can do it,” she soothes.

“I just…can’t,” Aislinn’s struggles through the tears, refusing to reciprocate the hug.

Then, Eimi puts her hands on Aislinn’s shoulders, looking the distressed girl in the eyes with a stern expression.

“Listen, where are we now? We’re no longer in New York, no longer in the States. The situation is different now, we are all different now. You’ve grown so much since then, and I’m so proud of you for it. I love you, so believe me when I say that it’s okay for you to touch me. The feeling is mutual, so don’t hold back with your feelings, got that?”

Aislinn, at first stunned because of the sudden lecture, tears up again, but this time they aren’t tears of emotional stress. Rather, it’s relief that gets released into the chilly air of the study.

She smiles at Eimi, the burden being lifted, even if just a little bit. “Yes.”

Aislinn pulls Eimi down by the collar of her blouse, pressing her lips against the girl’s.

Eimi readily gave in, letting Aislinn caress her with a shy touch. They lean into each other, into the warm and feather-soft kiss. Heavenly sensation overtakes the two, melting into one. There is no study, no Malleus Maleficarum, no summerhouse. Only the love remains, creating landscapes of its own. Swirling, painting clouds, stars and roses.

They have one another, and that’s plenty, here, by the willow.

Gradually returning to reality, Eimi’s eyes regain their focus. The study feels even more empty now that she remembered a scene like that. She grips the blanket tightly, the emotional turmoil having its due effect on her.

Deciding to have breakfast, Eimi stands up and drapes the blanket over the backrest of the chair. She then turns around and closes the study’s door behind her without looking back, leaving the gloomy atmosphere behind for now.

Mulling over what happened the night before, she finds herself to not be tasting the food properly.

_Maybe a morning walk will do my head some good…_

After washing up, Eimi gets dressed to go outside. The foggy landscape had a strange enigmatic charm to it, here in the early morning.

“Dawn, huh…” she mutters to herself, thoughts swirling around in her mind, exhausting her.

She decides to go for a walk by the lake, stretching itself too far into the mist for her to see the other side.

Whilst strolling she returns to her thoughts, trying yet again to think of a reasonable conclusion in order to put all the questions to rest.

_I’m certain that I heard Aislinn cry. It couldn’t have been my imagination, or could it? It sounded so clear, but then again, what if my emotions got the better of me to the point of hallucination? No, no, I’m sure of it. That was Aislinn. But she can’t be here, she can’t possibly be at the summerhouse, she couldn’t have been…_

Suddenly, Eimi notices something peculiar in the mist. There are small lights, dancing. It’s very difficult to see, but they’re most definitely there.

Startled, she stops in her tracks. The lights are remarkably bewitching, inviting her to come closer.

_Come, come, let us show you the way to Beloved._

Eimi however, isn’t fucking under the weather upstairs, and snaps back to reality.

_Aren’t those… will-o’-the-wisps?_

_Oh hell no._

She promptly turns around and speed-walks back to the summerhouse.

_This goddamned moor and its neighbours._

_Fuck it all._

What bothers her the most about the strange sight isn’t the visual of it, but rather the feeling that welled up when she saw those lights. Not wanting to think about what it could possibly imply, she pushes it to the back of her mind, and goes back inside the house.

_Far, far away, he saw something shine and glitter._


	3. qui n'avance pas, recule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And slowly she got pulled up out of the dirt and grime, detaching her roots from the soil they were grown into.

Eimi had draped herself over the couch to watch NetFlax in order to get her mind off things about 2 hours ago, slowly coming to the realisation that this was in fact not very effective.

_So Monty Python is a no, _she noted to herself.

Checking the time – finding out that it was only 12 o’clock at noon – she decides to go to town, to maybe have a chat with some of her recently made friends. It was one good thing amongst mainly depressing ones, truly, to have such hearty friends in the town nearby and not on the other side of the world.

She misses the breeze carrying cherry blossom petals into crystal waters, she misses her family so dear to her, and yet, she cannot get herself to pack her things and take a flight home.

_That’s quite pathetic, isn’t it, _she grimaces.

Getting ready to go out once again, she grabs her wallet and leaves the house, refusing to look back.

Having entered town, she parks her car near the square and goes to check what’s new at the local shops. After dropping by the pharmacy, Eimi opts to go visit the little book store. As the bell above the entrance tinkles, Martha, a voluptuous elderly woman with curly greying hair and bright blue eyes, greets the girl warmly.

“Hello dear. How have you been doing?”

Eimi returns the smile, albeit with a bit less warmth, and replies: “I’m fine, Martha.”

She already noticed during their first meeting that Martha is quite a perceptive woman and deep down already knew that her spineless answer wasn’t going to cut it.

The knowing look that appears in the lady’s blue eyes affirms this, making Eimi shrivel up in guilt.

Martha sighs: “Now, how are you doing_ really_?”

“Not that good,” Eimi admits truthfully, averting her eyes.

Martha looks at her for a moment, thinking.

Then, she rummages through the pockets of her mauve dress, taking out a necklace with a beautiful crystal pendant.

“Here,” she says, holding it up to Eimi.

“What?...” Eimi looks up, bewildered.

“For you. It’s emerald.”

“Emerald?” Eimi asks, studying the pendant of an utmost captivating deep green colour.

“Yes. You seem like you need it,” Martha says.

“How do you…” Eimi begins, but her voice gets stuck in her throat halfway.

Martha only smiles, cutting off all possibilities for more struggling from Eimi’s side.

“Thank you,” Eimi accepts the gift from the warm-hearted woman, putting it on.

“It looks wonderful on you,” Martha assures her, with curls dancing in delight.

The young girl smiles gratefully, finding herself to be feeling slightly better.

“Well then, I think I’ll be on my way now, goodbye Martha,” Eimi greets her friend as she heads towards the convenience store.

Martha waves her goodbye and continues with her day, smiling to herself.

_Chicken…No, maybe BLT? Ew, never mind. The cheese one also looks absolutely horrible, or is it egg? Oh, it’s egg. _

_Well…it at least looks like the main ingredient, so that’s a plus. Quite unlike the tuna salad…I can’t see that as anything else other than vomit._

One thing that Eimi could not for the love of god grow accustomed to, was British cuisine. It was during moments like these that she yearned most for her mother’s home-cooking, making her mouth water just at the thought of it.

_You know what, I think I’ll treat myself to something actually edible and not possibly poisonous for the human body._

She leaves the pre-packed sandwiches section to scour the convenience store for food that suits her more refined taste buds.

An exclamation mark forms in her head as she notices that they sold rice.

_GOD HAS HEARD THIS LOWLY PEASANT’S PRAYER._

Celebrating the discovery, she then quickly grabs a bag.

_Now, as for veggies…_

On her way back to her car, Eimi encounters a very dishevelled little critter, which, she discovers upon taking a closer look, turns out to actually be a fairly young kitten.

“A stray?” she expresses, startled.

Looking around, she tries to find something indicating that this kitten might belong to someone, or that it’s there with its family somewhere near.

Not coming upon anything, Eimi takes a deep breath and looks down at the young cat for a couple of seconds whilst making up her mind.

“I must’ve gone mad” she scoffs, getting down on her knees and reaching out to the kitten.

It approaches Eimi’s hand shyly, sniffing her fingers.

“There, there…” she mutters.

As the little cat gradually eases into trusting her, she takes off her coat to try and hold it. Much to her surprise, the kitten doesn’t resist and lets Eimi lift it up at first try.

“I suppose you’ll be staying the night at my home, huh,” Eimi smiles softly.

Walking to her car, she feels a spark of bliss light up within her.

_I’m getting better, Aislinn._

Eimi arrives home with groceries, some flu medicine and a grubby, tiny cat packed in a cashmere coat.

_And this isn’t even the strangest incident I’ve ever partaken in, _she laughs to herself.

Taking off her shoes in the hallway and putting down the bags with groceries in the kitchen, she heads to the bathroom with the kitten, still bundled up in the coat.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

Whilst carefully washing the kitten, Eimi notices that its fur is originally white, with the exception of the ears, snoot, tail and paws, which turn out to be a brownish black colour.

She gasps in excitement: “A ragdoll!”

Its brilliant blue eyes look up at her, confused.

An overwhelming feeling of adoration bubbles up in her stomach at the sight of the gorgeous kitten, and she pledges to herself that she’ll ensure this tiny creature will live a good life.

“My gods, I love you already,” Eimi sighs.

Softly meowing, the kitten walks up to her leg to headbutt her.

“Oh, right, you must be hungry!” she realises, lifting the cat up and bringing it into the kitchen.

“Luckily for you, I just bought some fish earlier today,” she smiles at its fluffy face.

As she watches the kitten gobble up the contents of a tin of unsalted sardines, Eimi tries to think up a proper name.

_White fur…Whitey? No, ew. Then…paws…Pawsies?_

_Disgusting, never mind._

_…It was quite grubby when I first found it, so then…Mister Grubb?_

_Mister Grubb. Grubby. Groobie. Grooby?_

_Or maybe just Blueberry, but that’s quite long for a cat’s name._

_…What about…Blurry? _

_…_

_Blurry sounds…better? Good enough, I suppose._

As Eimi settles with the name and returns to reality, she looks down at the young cat, noticing that it has finished its dinner for a while now and has probably been staring at her ever since.

“Blurry,” she says, looking for some sign of acknowledgement.

The kitten meows in return.

“From now on, you will be called Blurry. Are you okay with that?” Eimi says, feigning a stern exterior.

Another meow.

“Seeing that you agree, you must sign the contract,” she states in a solemn tone, leaning down to hold her hand in front of the kitten with the palm facing upwards.

Blurry puts its paw on her hand.

“The contract has been signed. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Blurry-san.”

“Meow.”

“Well then, you might have enjoyed dinner already, I however am starving, so if you don’t mind, I’ll get cooking now, alright?” Eimi says, straightening up and unpacking the other groceries.

Blurry decides to jump up onto a chair at the dining table to observe Eimi’s impeccable cooking skills be put to action.

Eimi practically inhales her food, not having eaten anything since breakfast made her almost go delirious.

After washing up, she settles down on the couch with her laptop to edit some of her photographs that were lying in wait for a while now.

Blurry almost immediately joins her on the couch, beginning to purr loudly as Eimi pats its head.

“I’ll have to get back to work again in order to gain enough money for us to stay here, Blurry,” she smiles at the kitten.

Working throughout the entire evening, she lulled herself into a routine of touching up her works and patting the purring young cat napping on her thigh.

The night felt soft this time, and along with the ball of fur it eased her into a deep, restful sleep.

“I sure wonder how she’s doing,” hummed the creature resting its head in its hands.

A glare got sent its way from a larger, hooded figure, writing in a thick, leather-bound book by warm candlelight.

“Aren’t you worried?” the little thing continued: “We know you are.”

“…So what if I am? Worry isn’t going to change anything,” the person grumbled.

“Aw…Don’t be so pessimistic, you’re in a most magical place! There’s no space for negativity here,” the tiny being chirped.

“You literally dragged me here without my consent, you expect me to be happy?” The taller person now decided to turn around and look at the winged critter with an incredulous look in their eyes.

“Hmm, but that isn’t completely correct, is it now? C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t know?”

“What are you even trying to say,” the person spoke in an annoyed tone of voice.

“I’m saying that you actually don’t mind this work, dearie,” the small creature said with a sharp look decorating its beady eyes.

“…” the person fell quiet, looking at the blank paper with a contemplative look in their eyes.

After a little while, they admit: “No, you’re right. I don’t. I just hate that you had to take me away like that.”

“From her,” the critter added, a sliver of pity in its voice.

“…Yes.”

“Oh well,” the wee creature sat up: “we’re going to take her as well anyway, sooner or later.”

“What?”

The tiny one grinned: “You heard me~”

“You can’t do that! She’ll have to leave everything behind, her life, her family, don’t you have any empathy?!” the taller individual yelled in distress.

“I mean,” the tiny critter took a breadcrumb from the plate next to it, “she lost you, and that’s pretty bad already, considering you two are _deeply_ in love, right?” it munched obnoxiously loud on the bread in-between sentences.

It continued: “Anyway, she seemed pretty depressed last time we saw her."

“…You got to check on her?!” the person replied astonished.

“Yeah. What, you jealous?” the bratty creature teased.

“…No…” the hooded person frowned, diverting their gaze.

“Ohh~ Bad liaaar~” the critter squealed.

“…It’s probably for the best I don’t show my face,” the individual expressed grimly.

“It doesn’t really matter if we’ll be taking her here before long."

“…Why are you so adamant on kidnapping her anyway? There isn’t a single drop of blood in her body that’s originally from these grounds, so why?” the taller individual questions the tiny one. 

“She’s from foreign lands, sure, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have what it takes. Japan’s _super _chock-full of magic, silly!”

“How do you even know where she’s from- you know what, I don’t care anymore,” the person sighed.

“Oh, oh, don’t turn indifferent now! You can suck each other’s face off soon, aren’t you excited?” the small creature squeaks, words coming from a source of pure mischief.

“Stop the explicit language or I’ll grind you into faerie dust,” they threatened.

The faerie cackles as it flies away, leaving behind a trail of small specks of shimmering light in the cold midnight air.

The hooded individual watches the lights slowly die out and turns to their book, resuming their work.

_Those who do not move forward, move backwards._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @silverwhalesandsenja for updates on this work.


	4. Beidh lá eile ag an bPaorach.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fog is slowly being lifted and secrets long forgotten are baring their fangs, ready to hunt down seemingly unstained prey.  
The gears have started turning long ago, and we are merely puppets that have been thrown into yet another war of jumbled feelings of longing and fear.

Since Eimi has gotten herself back into the grind of her job as freelance photographer again the days pass by more quickly, almost making her forget about the strange encounters she’s been having more and more often recently.

Thankfully though, there are still things remaining that make her life a bit better in the midst of the chaos. One of those things being, of course, Blurry. Eimi still can’t figure why such a two-faced crook in sheep’s clothing is capable of soothing feelings of grief so much to the point where she can actually smile again, and earnestly so. Strangely enough, the necklace given to her by Martha as well, has been a soothing presence. Ever since she has put it on the weight has somehow been lifted from her shoulders, making her heart feel lighter and cutting off the sharp edges that her anxiety had grown.

The doorbell rings while Eimi is engrossed by her inbox, ridding it of spam mails all the while simultaneously trying to entertain her emotionally dependent cat.

At the doorstep stands Gina, a charming woman in her forties and mother of three. She greets Eimi with a bright smile, rosy cheeks rising to her eyes. “Hello, Eimi!”

“Gina? H-hi!” slightly taken aback, Eimi greets the lady awkwardly but lets her in anyway. “It’s been a while- Oh!” Gina suddenly stops in the middle of the hallway, then turns back to Eimi, “I hope I’m not disturbing you?”

Her eyes filled with genuine concern and worry get Eimi to reconsider rejecting Gina’s presence. “No, not at all! I was actually planning to take a little break from work just about now, so it’s alright, really,” she smiles at the older woman, feeling a warmth fill her chest. “Oh!” Gina chirps as she seems to bounce up in excitement “Let’s have some tea then! I made you sandwiches, I assume you didn’t have lunch yet?”

“…No…” Eimi mutters, looking the other way. Gina smiles, and starts: “You look like the dead, darling. That’s why,” she pushes the box of sandwiches onto Eimi, “You need to eat. Now. Okay?”

Eimi smiles back. “Alright then, Gina.”

Once Gina left, Eimi had once again picked up her work. Now that’s she’s done a good three hours of work uninterrupted, sleep is gently taking over her mind. She lets it happen, the peace of slumber enveloping her.

After a while of blissful oblivion to the outside world, however, something wakes Eimi up, although she’s not sure what. “Blurry?” she calls out, still groggy from her nap. The sky has turned a dull, quickly darkening shade of blue, and Eimi has to get her eyes used to the dark in order to make out any furniture in the room properly. As she carefully walks over to the light switch in the eerie silence, she can feel panic rising in her stomach.

_Something’s off._

Where Blurry would normally almost immediately meow in response to her voice, there was quiet. No sound, no pitter pattering of little paws coming toward her, nothing. _Maybe he fell asleep somewhere. _Although she knows that even if he had, Blurry would’ve come to her by now, Eimi still goes around the house, looking in all the nooks and crannies. By the time she’s gotten around to the study, at the opposite end of the house, her uneasiness has reached a new high. Anxiously, she peers around the door into the room, not even bothering to call Blurry’s name anymore. _This door has been closed the entire time, why would he even be here, for god’s sake._ Standing there in the middle of the study, she sighs, feeling utterly hopeless. _He could‘ve gone back to his family. Returned to his mother, maybe. _Eimi knows it’s stupid to think that way, but she would like that to be true. _Having a home, is such a blessing. _“What should I do now, Aislinn? You always know what to do, so tell me,” she asks, even though it will most certainly not reach any ears. “Who am I kidding,” Eimi scoffs as she turns around and exits the room, closing the door behind her without looking back.

Standing in the centre of a drier, but still rather mugged patch of grass compared to the rest of the landscape around her, Eimi is starting to rethink her actions. _Why did I decide to go out in a fucking swamp at nightfall again? _Pointing her flashlight at the ground, she’s looking for other dry patches to step on. _I should’ve at least told somebody I was going to do this, I’m so fucking stupid. _“Hello bog bodies, nice to meet you. I hope you’ll accept me in your clique of cool kids,” Eimi mumbles as she gradually makes her way further into the moor, looking around for any sign of the beloved white cat that _somehow_ managed to get out of the house, despite there having been not a single window or door open at the time. “This is useless,” she sighs as despair truly overwhelms her at this point, stopping at one of the patches. Shining her flashlight around one more time, Eimi’s about to give up and turn back until she notices a group of bushes ten or so metres away. _…I’m already here, what can it hurt to look just a little further?_

As Eimi pushes the bony branches of the dry bushes away, she finds there to be a much bigger chunk of somewhat substantial land hidden behind them. While she’s catching her breath, both from emotional distress and physiological efforts, she slowly starts registering the sight before her.

Paralyzed, Eimi focuses her eyes on something, laid out in a scarily neat manner in the grass. Covers of silky cobwebs decorated with droplets, it all looks like jewellery in the light of Eimi’s torch. It could look beautiful, it could make for a splendid picture, if it isn't for the fact that no light reaches the brilliant blue eyes from the creature that always looked at Eimi with such unquestioning trust and adoration. There lies Blurry, covered with aforementioned cobwebs. Dead.

Eimi stumbles back, all the strength seeping out of her body. She falls to the ground as the world shatters around her. Behind the splinters of a lost reality she can see the gloom of the bog. Lights spring up one by one above the marsh in a perfect circle around the patch, but Eimi doesn’t notice.

Before her, a woman approaches, posture proud and formal. As the dark lets her figure go, the lavish deep-purple robes and extravagant golden jewellery become clearer with every step, the light of the strange little orbs reflecting off the gold, shimmering so brightly it hurts Eimi’s eyes. The woman stops in front of her, ice-blue eyes looking down at the girl. Her lips move, immediately pulling Eimi’s focus toward them. It takes a while before Eimi realises that the woman has in fact started to _speak_. To her, presumably.

“I’ve come to take you.” Her voice is strong and gentle at the same time, the sound flowing like a river through the air. The interval of silence that follows shakes Eimi awake, making her redirect her focus at the woman’s _eyes _rather than her lips casting their magic. “What?...” Eimi asks in a thin voice, confused and still dazed from the shock. “You are…the third.” The woman doesn’t seem to be paying any mind to Eimi’s quite obvious horrid emotional state or the cadaver of a very young not-stray.

“The third of wha- What are you even saying?” Eimi stammers. Her pants and sleeves are absolutely soaked at this point, but she doesn’t even notice.

“I cannot give away more right now, but you will see when we get there. Now, come with me,” the lady says sternly as she turns around, expecting Eimi to follow.

Eimi stands up, but doesn’t move from her spot. “To where? Besides, why would I even go with you? I don’t even know who you are…”

The woman doesn’t turn back to face her when she answers in a cool tone. “I know Aislinn.” Eimi is even more confused at that. “You- what?”

“I’m taking you to her.” At last she reverts to facing Eimi again, but it seems as though she still refuses to give away any emotion. “You’re going to kill me?” Eimi asks, her voice sounding awfully hoarse as the words leave her mouth.

“No.” And at that, they awkwardly stand there, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the moor. Or at least, Eimi thinks it’s uncomfortable. She has no clue about whatever is going on in the crazy one’s mind. After she has gathered herself a bit, Eimi starts: “So…,” and as the woman does not react, not even a little bit, she goes on, “You know…it’s getting late, I really should be heading home…” turning around to leave the woman, Eimi finally notices the lights that have been hanging above the moor for a while now. “Okay, what are thooose…things,” she asks, rotating back to direct the question at the woman whilst pointing at the mysterious lights. “You’ll know if you come with me,” she replies, tone stern.

“Hm…yeah, I really am not that interested in knowing. To be frank, miss, I really prefer crying myself to sleep tonight, you know. If you didn’t notice yet,” Eimi says, gesturing towards her dead cat, “I’m kind of in mourning at the moment.” The woman looks at the cat, facial expression still as steely as it was in the beginning, then looks at Eimi.

She speaks up: “I’ll tell you what happened to Blurry, but you must come with.”

With an incredulous expression, Eimi gapes at the woman, absolutely baffled by the insensitivity of the other. “Are you actually fucking with me?”

The woman doesn’t reply. Instead, she looks Eimi in the eyes as she gets closer. And there, in the pale blue of the woman’s eyes, Eimi can see a sliver of pity swirling around. Concern, even. Then, as the woman has minimised the distance to the point where Eimi can feel her breath, she takes off her hood. Brilliant and silky white hair spills out, reaching all the way till the woman’s hips. The pure, unblemished colour is reminiscent, Eimi finds. Then, Eimi notices something else. On the sides of the woman’s face, at the same height of her cheekbones, the skin shifts into a strange, pitch black texture, all the way up her ears. “Blurry is still here,” the woman says, with her gaze still locked in the same place. “See?”

Utterly stunned, Eimi asks: “What…What_ are _you?”

The woman is silent for a short while, seemingly thinking the question over. “I’m human. Though,” she continues, “Blurry is my familiar.” She appears to be so sincere that Eimi doesn’t even question how ridiculous that would sound if it weren’t for her recent personal experiences with rather magical concepts. “Sounds believable enough,” she admits. “Will you come along now?” the woman keeps persisting, but this time, the question comes out softer, more caring. Eimi sighs, rubbing her temples as she replies. “You know what, fine.”

“Magnificent,” the woman says, continuing as she reaches out her hand to Eimi, “Now then, take my hand and do _not, _in any circumstance, let go.” Eimi looks down at her hand, then looks back up, facing the woman again. “…What would happen if I were to let go?” she asks cautiously. “You didn’t seem too happy about joining the ‘clique of cool kids’ down there, so if that is still the case, I strongly advise against letting go,” The woman states, a hint of mischief in the words. Eimi quickly grabs her hand, nervously responding with “Yeah, okay.” As soon as they joined hands, the emerald pendant starts illuminating whilst the lights above the bog all gather at one point, then separating to form a path, stretching out far into the distance in front of the two women. Without warning, the wind picks up, guiding the mist that seemingly emerged in record-time around them, making it near impossible to see anything else other than the lights. The woman and Eimi start making their way, following the lights while the fog keeps circling them. And as they leave the dry patch, Eimi anxiously awaits the fateful moment at which they'll drown in the swampland. It never comes. Looking up at the woman’s face questioningly, Eimi realises that she doesn’t feel any sensation of solid ground under her feet as they’re following the lights. In fact, it’s as though they’re walking on air. Looking down, she can’t clearly make out whether that is truly the case, but knowing now that pretty much anything is possible, Eimi decides to let it go.

Once the trail of lights ends, Fallon lets her hand go as they land on the ground. Turns out they _were_ in fact walking on air. The fog retracts into the darkness and the wind swiftly calms down, going back to sleep. They’re still in the moors, standing on another dry (the soggy grass would choose to differ) chunk of land, but this time they’re near the border of the woods that surround the area of marshlands. Looking around to take in the change of scenery, Eimi sees a familiar figure sitting about five metres from them, facing away.

“Aislinn…?” Eimi takes a tentative step toward the person, not sure if her gut’s telling her the truth or if this is another one of the hallucinations. The person reacts by turning their head around to look right at Eimi.

Her heart jumps as she recognises the delicate facial features of the other, how the blonde hair obscured the sides of her face, and how her eyes seemed to reflect the essence of the Ireland Eimi had seen plenty of ever since they moved away from New York and went on occasional hiking trips around the Isles.

“Eimi,” Aislinn breathes out as she quickly stands up. Eimi gapes at her for what seems like an eternity, discomfort growing exponentially for Aislinn by the second. She smiles apologetically, unsure what she should or_ could_ say that would improve the current situation. “I missed you,” she says, the message being so true, so very sincere, sure, but admittedly not amounting to a lot compared to the turmoil Aislinn knows Eimi has gone through since she was gone.

“You’re…really…alive,” Eimi utters, not yet quite caught up with reality. Aislinn tries to gauge Eimi’s emotional current condition for a minute before she speaks. “I’m so sorry, Eimi. For everything, truly,” walking toward Eimi, she says: “Look- I, I will explain everything to you – not that it undoes how I’ve wronged you and all, but I will. I will, just, let’s go to another place, okay? I’ll show you.” Once she and Eimi are separated by two metres only, Eimi steps back, face showing her uncertainty and confusion. “Wai-wait. How do I know I’m not hallucinating again?...H-how-”

“You…didn’t hallucinate anything, Eimi. You never were,” Aislinn tries to comfort her with her voice, but it doesn’t work, so she decides to try and approach her once more, carefully taking steps toward the distressed girl. As Aislinn softly touches Eimi’s hand, a startle goes through the other girl’s body, and as Aislinn looks her in the eyes, all she can see is despair and sorrow. “N-no. No. This is too much, Aislinn- or not-Aislinn, I don’t even know who you are, what you are. Please, just let me- give me a second to process all this,” Eimi says, hiding her face behind her hands that are held up defensively as she looks at anything but the person standing before her.

Aislinn looks at her with a frown, concern taking hold of her heart. “Can you leave us alone for a minute?” she directs this question at the woman. Apparently she hadn’t moved from her spot, based on how utterly drenched her shoes look. She hesitates, frowning at Aislinn. After a while of thinking it through, she settles with: “…Just for a little. You know I can’t give you that much freedom with her right now.”

“For the love of God, Fallon, she’s my girlfriend. Let me have this, at least,” Aislinn retorts in mild annoyance. “…Very well,” the white-haired woman sighs. “Be back before midnight. We ought to finish up that last one.”

“And,” she continues, looking Aislinn in the eye for a last time, “take her with you. I don’t want to get shit just because you’re such a darn softie, _Sapphokin_.”

“Shut up, _tight-ass_,” Aislinn hissed back at Fallon as the latter walked away and seemed to disappear in the mist. “Where did she go to?” Eimi asks, looking at the spot Fallon was last visible, the question not really directed at anyone particular. “Uh…You’ll see. It’s kind of hard to put into words,” Aislinn answers. They stand in silence for a while, the air cold. “I'm upset with you, Aislinn." Eimi says, still refusing to look her in the eyes. “Really upset. You're so vague, I don't get any of this. I mean, what's even going on? What made you disappear? I'm just...I just don't understand and nobody tells me _anything_," she ends the sentence in a sob. Aislinn keeps her gaze fixated on the ground as she replies. "I'm so sorry. I never wished for you to go through so much, all because of me." She falls quiet for a little, then looking at Eimi again, Aislinn says: "I don't think it'll make you feel much better, but I can explain as much as I know to you."

"The fog is...alive?"

“Well…Yes.” Aislinn tries to avert her eyes but Eimi is too close for it to really work. “It’s not…technically…_fog_, though,” she adds in a mumble, looking down. “It’s-wait, what?” Eimi asks, getting more and more confused by the second. “Uh, j-just…” Aislinn stutters, trying to think of a way to properly explain it to her. “Focus. Close your eyes and breathe in deeply, then breathe out through your nose. And repeat.” Eimi does as told, not bothering to resist as she’s still quite dazed. Why Aislinn would want her to do a simple breathing exercise though, is beyond her comprehension, and that stretches _far._ “Yes, like that,” Aislinn assures her after a couple of breaths in. _Of course I fucking know how to breathe,_ Eimi thinks to herself, eyes still closed. “Now,” Aislinn speaks after a little while of more deep breathing. “Open your eyes, and look at the ‘fog’ again…” her voice starves away in the chilly winter air rolling around them as she looks away from Eimi, into the distance. Eimi slowly opens her eyes and follows Aislinn’s gaze, only to be astounded by the grandiose sight playing before them, gracing the moor. She gasps, stepping back a little on instinct. It’s beautiful, sure, but it is still very foreign. “Yeah. Got it now?” Aislinn says, smirking slightly whilst looking at the play that is Eimi’s Facial Expressions. It takes a couple of seconds before Eimi regains enough of her composure to form words again. And then, abruptly, the storm starts. Wha-whAT THE FUCK IS THAT???” she yells so loud Aislinn can feel her eardrums vibrate until long after the exclamation. “That’s,” Aislinn starts, rubbing her hurting ears, “_those_,” correcting herself swiftly, “are faeries.” after uttering the words, Aislinn feels rather awkward, standing there in the middle of the frozen-over moor with her girlfriend she hasn’t seen for months after she left unannounced. She expects Eimi to make fun of her again, to ridicule the mere idea of there being something so outlandish and fantastic right in front of them, existing. Instead, when Aislinn finally gathers the courage to look back and meet her eyes, she’s met with something entirely different. Understanding. Worry.

“So this is what took you away?” Eimi asks in a frail voice. Aislinn looks her in the eyes, her silence affirmative. Eimi gapes at her, trying to process this new revelation. “I thought,” her voice cracks, “I thought you died. I though you were so fed up with everything that has happened that you just, _left_.” She looks down as she tries to hide her teary eyes. “Eimi,” Aislinn says softly, searching to make eye-contact. “Eimi, hey, how heartless would I be to desert you and die, just like that?” Eimi doesn’t respond as the tears spills from her eyes, quiet. “Oh, come here.” Aislinn opens her arms and invites Eimi in. Eimi lets her head bump into Aislinn’s chest as the other wraps her arms around the crying girl. And there they stand for a while, solely in each other’s presence, shoes water-logged.

“I have another question,” Eimi starts after she’s calmed down, detaching herself from Aislinn, “_Fallon_ – that’s her name, right? – told me something among the lines of ‘You are the third’, now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“‘The third’? Yeah, no, I’ve got no clue about that. She can be a bit weird, sometimes.” Aislinn says. Eimi laughs at that. “‘_Sometimes_’. Sure.” Aislinn follows suit, chuckling.

“Are you feeling okay now?” she asks after they’re done making fun of Fallon’s dramatism, concerned about how Eimi’s holding up after the overload of information. Eimi smiles, and earnestly so, as she replies: “Yeah. I’m fine, really.” Aislinn smiles back. “That’s good. Well then,” she says, “Let’s go, shall we? I’ll show you everything you want to know. You can punch me afterwards.”

_Faeries typically don’t like dogs, they’re too loud and excitable. _

_ Cats, however, are rather popular._

_The power fellow will have another day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this took ages
> 
> Hello lads, had a good midwinter? It's been a while :)  
Since I was so extremely busy around the entire month of November I just kept getting migraines, making me unable to work on this godforsaken chapter for at least 40 days. Well, at least the word count has now been doubled, so that's good (?). See this extra long chapter as a Christmas present, you deserve it for putting up with me <3  
Next chapters will be consistently released on a biweekly basis, so not to worry!
> 
> Also I made a Spotify playlist for a more ~emersive~ experience: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/73lzPrUxI7EmMk5yb3K4Vd


	5. Nähe des Geliebten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ich denke dein, wenn mir der Sonne Schimmer  
Vom Meere strahlt;  
Ich denke dein, wenn sich des Mondes Flimmer  
In Quellen malt."
> 
> "Ich bin bei dir, du seist auch noch so ferne,  
Du bist mir nah!  
Die Sonne sinkt, bald leuchten mir die Sterne.  
O wärst du da!"
> 
> -Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 'Nähe des Geliebten' (excerpt)

Aislinn lets her arm drop down from Eimi's waist as they land on the wild grass, strong enough to make its way to daylight through the rough, rocky ground. Eimi notices that they're standing on the cliffside, looking out on the sea. The water, shimmering as it reflects the sun's light, causes purple spots to dance in Eimi's vision. She looks at the person standing next to her, hoping to share her excitement about the aesthetic with Aislinn. But as Eimi tries to make eye contact with Aislinn however, she finds that the other is looking out in the far distance, frowning. "What's wrong?" Eimi asks concerned. "...Eimi, you must know something," Aislinn says after a while.

Eimi really wants to listen, truly, but something catches her attention, looming in her peripheral vision. She turns to fixate her vision on the foreign object, and as she squints, Eimi can vaguely make out the shape of an island, there, far out on sea. "Are we going there?" she points at the speck as she asks Aislinn. Aislinn looks too, and replies: "Well, yes, but no. Eimi, I'm not sure." 

"Not sure of what? Just so you know, I'm _going_ unless _I, _not anyone else_, _say otherwise." Eimi says, very adamant. "You can_ go_, but I'm not sure whether you can _return_." Aislinn says in all sincerity. "Now what's that supposed to mean? If not those fairy-mist things, I can always take a boat or something, I don't see the issue?" Eimi asks, reminding herself that Aislinn has the bad habit of keeping her statements vague unless asked to go into detail. 

"No, that's not it. Humans...age. The time there and here, doesn't match up. Meaning that if you were to go home, to your family, after what felt like a couple of months there, years will have passed here." 

"What happens when you do return?"

"Time catches up to you and your body practically crumbles, ending with you just being a heap of dust." The foreboding words hit Eimi hard, but something about them just doesn't make sense. 

"Well then, why aren't _you _dust?" she asks. Her intuition is already telling her why, but Eimi pushes it down. She wants to hear it from Aislinn's mouth only. "Uh..." the look on Aislinn's face shows that even she probably isn't sure. "Well, you see-" the premature revelation is interrupted by an ambient orchestra of cackling, whispers carried by the wind and the rustling of tiny wings moving rapidly. The sounds are accompanied by yet another gulf of fog, except that this one isn't initiated by Aislinn or Fallon. A voice speaks up, still tiny but loud enough to override the background noise. "Oh dearie, what have we here? Why are you hesitating?" the voice is shrill, with a kind of shrewdness seeping through. As the fog's density decreases, Eimi can see an ungodly amount of beady-eyed, winged critters circling them, their movements jerky and high-energy. "Fairies?" Eimi asks Aislinn, observing the spectacle. "Yes...," Aislinn replies, clearly not happy with their presence. "Sweetie Eimi! It's been a while!" a faery squeals, launching itself at her. Eimi quickly blocks the attack of affection however, and keeps the creature at an arm's distance. "Me?" Eimi asks confused. "Am I supposed to know you?"

A choir of cries commences at Eimi's apparent unknowing, scaring the shit out of her. Aislinn however, doesn't seem too affected, clearly already used to the melodrama. "How _insensitive_!!" one cried out a comprehensible sentence in between all the laments and animalistic shrieks. "Wait," Eimi says, letting the restrained faery go, enabling it to pounce upon her hair, clutching a lock in order to not fall off. "That - no, _those _were you?" she asks dumbfounded. "Yeees! that was we!!!" the one in her hair chirps, making tiny braids. Affirmative noises emanate around Eimi and Aislinn, confirming that they were in fact the visitors back in the moor. Eimi is swiftly bombarded by a bunch of other affectionate, over-enthusiastic faeries following the first one, hugging her and playing with her hair and fingers._ "_Hands off, slippery bugger,_" _Aislinn says as she pulls one off of Eimi when it tries to get a little too handsy with her."Why are you showing yourselves now?" Aislinn asks, glaring at the offender whilst holding it up with two fingers. "We just wanted to support Eimi with her first step into ☆ the ☆ unknown ☆ !" it shrieks defensively, limbs hanging limp in defeat. "Don't trust them, Eimi," Aislinn warns the overwhelmed girl that's still getting furiously attacked with hugs and kisses. "They're cute though...," Eimi says, looking at a faery attempting to tie a ring of daisies around her little finger. 

Suddenly the one that was braiding her hair speaks up. "Oh, yes! Eimi!" at last it lets go of her hair and flies in front of her face. "My name's Paddy! Nice to personally meet you!" the faery chirps, shaking Eimi's hand (or rather, her index finger) with both its tiny claws. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you, that we are visible, because," Paddy coughs in a solemn manner, "Eimi. We know that, this first step might be a very, _very _hard decision, so we," the critter motions to all the fae around them, "are here, to support you!" 

Eimi smiles, and like a mother would share a 'secret' with her child, she says: "It's not so much that's it's hard to decide whether I want to go or not, but I'm afraid of not being able to return, Paddy." 

"Then I would like to be the one to tell you, dear Eimi," Paddy continues in a mere whisper, "not to worry. You, the girl from the far-away exotic east of The Orient, are free to come to and leave our home as much as you'd like!" 

"But that doesn't make any sense," Eimi utters, confused. "I'm human, aren't I? It's impossible for me." 

Paddy grins, its sharp canine teeth visible. "The Japanese got the strongest passport, Eimi darling." The faery laughs at that, the sound high-pitched and strangely alien. "Also," it continues, "you're not fully human actually, so you'll be fine." 

"...Alright then," Eimi replies, rather disillusioned with the faery's nature. "Now then!" Paddy exclaims. "'Tis time for us to go spook-mode again!!! Bye, Eimi! Bye bye uuᴉʅsᴉ∀!" and at that, the mist thickens, seemingly devouring the fae, including Paddy. "Well, that was..." Eimi begins, speechless. "Yeah," Aislinn says. 

"You were right, they_ are_ shifty little bastards," Eimi admits, still intrigued by Paddy's odd mannerisms. "I know," Aislinn grins. "But they're neat to have as co-workers."

* * *

"You ready?" Aislinn asks her, slight concern colouring the question. "Of course," Eimi smiles up at her. "Alright then," Aislinn mumbles, stretching out her free left arm in front of her as she settles with her gaze on the island, on Tír na nÓg. The wind picks up in a steady rhythm around them once again, gathering the mist, or rather, the fae. In the whirlwind Eimi can see Aislinn's eyes light up, their green glistening with magic as they focus on their destination. Aislinn's grip on Eimi's waist tightens as they take off with a sweep of wind getting under their feet and swiftly lifting them up. It happens so sudden that Eimi grabs hold of Aislinn in surprise, clinging onto her for dear life as the mist has not yet stabilised under them. A couple of seconds later Eimi notices a clear difference in the way of travelling. They're not walking, yet they're up in the air, and moving forward. "Aislinn?" Eimi asks whilst looking down. She can see the waves with their white crowns of foam far beneath them very clearly, no mist of any kind obstructing the view this time. "Yes?" Aislinn looks at her, her hand still on Eimi's waist. "Why uh...Why are we flying?" 

"We're closer to the island here, so we can travel higher up and don't need as much 'power' compared to when we were in the moor." Aislinn seems tense, so Eimi settles with the answer given despite not being quite satisfied. "I see," she says.

"Ah, right," Aislinn starts, letting go of Eimi. "You can move on your own now." Hearing this, Eimi feels excitement welling up inside of her. "Really?!" she asks, holding her breath. "Yup," Aislinn says, smiling at Eimi's ridiculous expression. "Oh, _Fuck YEAH!_" Eimi exclaims, spreading her arms out wide. She gets lifted up by the fae, still invisible but clearly present, and flies above Aislinn, attempting to perform a looping but only doing so in a rather mediocre way. "Be careful, Icarus," Aislinn laughs as she follows her. It's as though they have grown invisible wings and it feels delightful, Eimi finds. She lowers herself again to be on the same level as Aislinn, and hugs her mid-flight. "This is amaaziiinng!!" she yells. "I'm glad," Aislinn says, smiling at the overjoyed girl. As they're dancing along the streams of magic, a thought enters Eimi's mind.

_If this is what the future holds, then maybe it won't be so bad to leave._

* * *

Falling headfirst in soft moss, their landing this time is nothing compared to the one at the cliffside. In a jumble of flailing limbs they come to a stop. Untangling themselves, the girls lay there for a bit, catching their breath. "Well, we're here," Aislinn sighs once the wind that got knocked out of her has returned. "And miraculously enough, still alive!" Eimi laughs. 

"You two took your damn sweet time getting here," a voice behind them speaks. Turning around, Aislinn and Eimi find Fallon to be standing there as if summoned at the second they arrived. "That's not at all, but go off if you so desire to," Aislinn replies, not fazed at all by the fact that Fallon practically materialised out of thin air. "Oh dear Buddha," Eimi utters as she looks out on the island, seeing countless foreign structures and enchanting flora and fauna. "That's a lot of pretty people," she says, gaping at the sight of the sídhe residing on the island, the hair of the women waving and shimmering in the wind, their laughs ringing pleasantly in the air. "Don't stare too much, your eyes will fall out," Fallon teases. "I just like the aesthetic! I'm a photographer, you know?" Eimi defends herself con passione. "I know, I follow you on Instagram." Fallon says, passing Eimi as the latter stands still in shock. "You- what?" 

"Just leave it," Aislinn tells her, gently urging Eimi to keep on walking. "Fallon has a bad case of FOMO," she explains as they continue their hike. "I see," Eimi replies, even though she doesn't quite grasp the concept of a possibly centuries-old magical creature using social media. It's just a weird mental image. Suddenly, as she's gawking at the beautiful landscape the three currently find themselves in, a certain realisation dawns upon her. "I FORGOT MY CAMERA," she gasps. Aislinn jolts at the abrupt yelling, whilst Fallon laughs. "_Jesus Christ_, Eimi!" Aislinn says. "Calm your tits, _please_." 

"I wouldn't let you photograph anything in here even if you _did_ have a camera ♡" Fallon snickers. "...Does every bitch in this place talk like that?" Eimi asks, looking cross-eyed at Fallon. "𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥❔" 

"...No, never mind," Eimi dismisses it, ignoring her. They walk across the moss field, the ground uneven but soft. Crossing a bridge over a little stream, Eimi can see that they're steering away from the collection of strange buildings in the distance. "Aren't we going into town?" she asks. "Not yet," Aislinn replies. "Why?"

"Simply said, right now, you reek of human." Fallon states. "Generally, humans are seen as toys, at best. Servants, _slaves_ at worst." she explains.

Eimi squints as she looks at Aislinn. Pointing at her, Eimi asks Fallon: "Then how do you explain THAT?"

"She will give you the nice deets herself," Fallon answers, amused. Aislinn visibly sweats, looking the other way.

As the trio is crossing a field of flowers, Eimi can see all sorts of little fae flying around the radiant flowers like bees. Some watch her curiously, although most pay her no mind. After a while of wading through the myriad of poppies and other sorts of flowers Eimi can't quite identify, they get to a patch of trees. A forest, Eimi discovers as they get closer. They're not even that far into the woods as they get to a house. "Behold," Fallon announces in a faux-deep voice, "_La résidence d'Aislinn._" 

"Now then, my job is done. I'll leave you two be," Fallon winks obnoxiously and snickers whilst she trots along, taking a turn into the forest and disappearing behind a couple of trees. Eimi looks at the building, Aislinn's place, supposedly, and notices that the architecture seems eerily similar to the Victorian style she's seen plenty of back in Europe, in the human plane. "They love their Queen Victoria age builds here," Aislinn says, as if she read Eimi's mind. 

"You... live like this?" Eimi asks in amazement. "Well, for the time being, yeah," Aislinn says, her face decorated with a light blush. "So are we going in or what?" Eimi grins, looking at Aislinn gradually growing into a bigger mess. "Of course." 

The interior of the house is fascinating, to say the least. Everything is tidy, which Eimi suspects is result of Aislinn's inhabitation. Cabinets filled to the brim with glass jars containing dried herbs and swirling liquids line the walls, and not to forget the most notable thing: the plants. Oh god, _the plants. _Everywhere Eimi looks, there are potted plants. Climbing up to the ceiling, the windows, even the bookshelves have fallen victim to the Power of the Flower. "I didn't know you liked plants." she says, studying the venus flytrap in the windowsill. "It felt too empty when I got here, so I started collecting them. It might have gotten a bit out of hand though...," Aislinn replies absent-mindedly, gently pushing aside an arm of a morning glory to get to the psychology section of her bookshelf. Eimi walks over to the cabinets, intrigued by the strange illuminating liquids. "So you were lonely, too," she remarks whilst pushing her nose against the glass of one jar containing a glittery purple emulsion. Aislinn hums. "Absolutely."

_Nearness of the Beloved._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's not named after a proverb but after a poem from ya boi Johann because I'm weak
> 
> Read the english translation of the poem here: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/n%C3%A4he-des-geliebten-nearness-beloved.html


	6. Oh hi Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Say," Eimi starts, "Aislinn."
> 
> "Yeah?" Aislinn stops torturing the moss. It sighs in relief. 
> 
> "I just, really want to confirm this, but...you're... human, right?" Eimi asks.
> 
> Aislinn looks at her with a blank face for a little while. "Probably...not...entirely?"
> 
> In this chapter: fluff, mediocre attempts at humour and depression (trigger warning?)

"So...," Eimi turns around after she's done observing all the little trinkets neatly put away in the cabinets. Looking at Aislinn, she asks: "What exactly...were you doing around here for the past...you know, _age _or so?" 

"Well, short answer is: witchcraft," Aislinn pauses, thinking out her answer, she continues "the long answer, however, is witchcraft." 

"Uh huh," Eimi nods, not surprised. "And?" she asks, not getting what 'witchcraft' means to Aislinn exactly. "What?" Aislinn replies with another question. O_h, pesky white girl, _Eimi thinks. Demanding more of an explanation, she says: "'And' as in, what do you mean with 'witchcraft'? I'm going in blind here, Aislinn." 

"Oh, right," Aislinn says, as if it wasn't obvious that Eimi knows jack shit about magic and the likes yet. "Uhm, well, I think it's best if," she stumbles around at her desk, looking for something under the myriad of rolls of parchment, pulling out a thick book and handing it to Eimi, "you read." 

"Read," Eimi repeats, looking down at the leather-bound book. "Of course. When wanting to know what Aislinn's been up to, you read a book. How did I not think of that? That's so _you_ it's not even funny," she says, astounded. "Just...just read it, alright? Even flipping through it is enough. It's more significant than you think," Aislinn says. "Oh, you might want to sit down, though. It can take a while," she adds, looking around for a comfortable place to sit for Eimi. "There's no living room or anything of the sort here, so we'll have to do with chairs..." 

"Or, you know, we could just go outside," Eimi suggests, looking out through the window at the silver little streams cleaving through the lush green of the moss, and the explosion of colours that is the sea of flowers.

"...Yeah, that's a better idea." Aislinn admits after peering outside as well.

And so they went, ending up in the shade of a weeping willow, now lounging in the comforting moss. Eimi embarks on the journey of studying the book given to her, whilst Aislinn sits next to her, spacing out whilst gazing at nothing in particular.

"...You...made this?" Eimi asks whilst carefully flipping through the book in awe. Aislinn's face flushes at that, and stuttering she answers. "Yeah, well, I just kind of...collect information I think might be useful and put it all in one bundle, it's nothing special, really." Embarrassment makes her voice do acrobatics whilst replying, causing Eimi to chuckle. "It _is_ though! This looks so impressive, you even added illustrations, it's amazing. You could actually publish this, you know." 

"Except that it's not really information you can spread out in the 'human realm'," Aislinn says, looking down, pulling at the little moss plants. "Oh, yeah. I guess you're right," Eimi replies, reminded of where they are and the current situation. "Where did you even get all this information anyway? You got a mentor?" she asks, trying to bring back the lighthearted atmosphere. "We have a library here, so I could freely do a bunch of research." Aislinn's eyes shine when saying the word 'library'. 

_'We', she said, _Eimi thinks. At that, a question springs up in her head. "Say," she starts, "Aislinn."

"Yeah?" Aislinn stops torturing the moss. It sighs in relief. 

"I just, really want to confirm this, but...you're... human, right?" Eimi asks.

Aislinn looks at her with a blank face for a little while. "Probably...not...entirely?"

"What do you mean?"

Aislinn sits back, looking up at the roof of leaves protecting them from potentially turning into shrimps at the hands of the sun. "Well...I don't know. I'm pretty sure nobody who is fully human could have gotten in as deep as I am, you know? Besides, I didn't age when I went back to the moor, so that's also a thing." 

"...Are you sure about that? I'm sure I can see some wrinkles forming here and there, and what's that?" Eimi leans in to the other and pretends to pull out a hair, holding it in front of Aislinn. Feigning seriousness, she says: "You're going grey, Aislinn." 

Aislinn stares at Eimi's empty hand and bursts out in laughter, provoking her to laugh as well. 

"Anyway," Aislinn begins, catching her breath after the laughing fit. She switches to a serious tone and looks at Eimi. "How are you feeling?"

Eimi looks her in the eyes as well, thinking the question over. She hums as she lets herself fall back on the moss, spreading her arms in a horizontal T-pose. "Truth be told," Eimi sighs, "my emotional stability is probably somewhere in the Sahara right about now, and I'm fairly certain I can break down any minute, but," she turns her head to look at Aislinn again and grins, "I'm... _so_ glad you're alive, you don't even know." 

Aislinn smiles, and looks away. "You know," she hesitates, "if you're not feeling well or anything, or want something, just say the word. You don't have to hold back, really." Eimi, taken by surprise, feels tears well up. Rubbing her eyes, she smiles. "Thank you Aislinn. I will." 

Aislinn leans over Eimi, and with a pained face, she softly apologises. "I'm sorry, Eimi."

"I know you are," Eimi says. She touches Aislinn's cheek in reply. "I love you," Aislinn says. "I love you too." Eimi replies. She gently tugs Aislinn down and at that, and Aislinn moves in, allowing her lips to connect with Eimi's. 

They kiss in the brilliance of afternoon, the sun's rays shining through the willow's leaves. A newfound paradise granting them a future of bliss, and nothing in the world is capable of ruining it.

"Yo, that's gay 'Linnie." 

The girls quickly detach as a third person has rudely announced their presence by ruining the moment Logan Paul-style. "Shut the fuck up, you little bastard," Aislinn snarls almost immediately as she registers who dared to disrupt her precious moment with Eimi. 

Eimi sits up and looks behind Aislinn. She sees a creature, another sort of faery, she notes, but this one being about one meter tall, and sporting ginger mutton chops at that. "You!" Eimi gasps. "Yeh," the faery replies in the same hoarse voice Eimi heard just moments before. "You're," she tries to bring out more words, but fails. The ginger lad is getting quite miffed. "YEh?" 

And finally, Eimi manages to convey her deepest feelings. "SO_ CUTE!!_" 

"Uh," the faery backs off, warily eyeing not only her, but Aislinn as well, who has jumped into offense-mode. "Ah, shite. New crock, who this?" he says, trying fervently to prevent Eimi from touching his face. "Look Aislinn! He's got your eyes!!" the girl squeals excitedly, managing to get through the faery's defenses, squishing his cheeks with a passion that rivals that of the Gods. "Be careful, Eimi. It bites," Aislinn warns her, grinning at the faery's predicament. "Got it," Eimi replies, still exuding inexhaustible bliss. "_Don't_ tweat me like some vermin, you cwunt," he barks at Aislinn, but the continuous deforming of his face by the fiend called Eimi undermines the message of threat. "...Thwat does fweel good though. Ya got smwooth hands there, lassie," he admits after a little while, his being conquered. "_Hey_," Aislinn snaps, scowling at the chunky guy. "Don't be a filthbag. Go dig your gold elsewhere, Turlough." and as she turns around to pick up the book Eimi dropped, Aislinn hisses under her breath, the most Vile of vile insults: "_Stinky goblin._"

If being called a filthy bag didn't do the job, the last utterance most definitely dealt the final blow. The faery called Turlough takes Eimi's hands off his face in order to blow up at the other girl. "I AM A_ LEPRECHAUN _AND YOU KNOW THAT, AISLINN JADE CALLENREESE," he roars, steam coming out of his ears.

"Anyhow, who is this bean you got yourself, 'Linnie? Ya need to tell me, because I'm _thirsting_ for answers," he switches topics and moods as quickly as Trump types out nuking-threat tweets, incredibly curious to know all the tea regarding Aislinn's love life. "Get your ass to a pub and get your thirst taken care of there, I ain't telling you, midget," Aislinn replies, unfazed, proceeding to throw him a single euro. Turlough catches it by jumping up at least 2 metres in the air, and once landed immediately makes a run for the nearest pub. Whilst running he shouts in jubilant tone: "Aye THANKS 'LINNIE! I'LL BE GOIN' NOW BYE HAVE A FUN TIME WITH YOUR GHRAAAaaa..." his voice dies away, carried to other destinations by the wind. "GET FUCKED, TURLOUGH!" Aislinn yells back at him. Eimi gapes. "He was..._so_ cute, but so...stormy," she utters. "...You've got weird taste in what you find cute," Aislinn says, frowning at Eimi. "Is everyone on this island so cute?" she ignores Aislinn's expression of doubt, still staring into the distance. "If _that's_ your standard, then yes," Aislinn makes a mistake in not thinking her reply through, because now Eimi focuses her gaze on the other, and slowly, she says: "So, everyone...including _you_!" she grins a toothy grin at Aislinn and makes her a victim of the cheek-rubbing as well. Aislinn lets out a groan of discomfort. "Agh...sth...sthwoahp...!" she stumbles back at the sheer force of the other squeezing her cheeks, full of rigor. Eimi giggles and pushes Aislinn's chest with just enough strength to make her trip over the patches of moss she abused, sweet karma at play. Eimi knows she's succeeded as she sees Aislinn's eyes widen at the loss of control whilst tumbling down, landing in the moss with Eimi coming in short behind. The impact causes it to puff out clouds of little particles that appear gold in the late noon's sun. Eimi laughs, enjoying her victory. Aislinn means to be cross with the girl, but looking up at her laughing so carefree, surrounded by little gold sparkles, makes it impossible for Aislinn to bring up the energy to protest. She laughs, too, fondly. "You're crazy," she breathes. "We're all a little crazy, heartie," Eimi rides off her mirth, smiling down at Aislinn whilst booping her nose, causing her to let out a chuckle. "Yes, but you most definitely take the cake." 

"That's an entire cake for _me_ alone!" Eimi grins.

"I'll get you that cake sometime. But for now, let's go home," Aislinn smiles. 

* * *

When Eimi opens her eyes, the first thing she notices is that she's floating in inky water, rather than lying in the warm bed she's supposed to be in. She tries to move her head, but can only do so slightly with enormous effort. A fog clouds her mind, her senses are dulled. The only true stimulation is the cold weight of the emerald pendant lying heavy on her chest, lifting up at every deep breath in, descending not long after in an entrancing rhythm. 

Eimi lies still for a while, looking at the sky. 

It's white, like the peaks of the highest mountains, with an occasional cluster of grey spots shifting into view. She sits up, slowly, and carefully gets to her feet, feeling like a new-born fawn. She scans her surroundings, but all she can see is the smooth surface of the water, reflecting the sky's patterns.

A person rises up out of the water a couple of metres away from her. Their hair, silky and pearly white, hides their face. Eimi tries to speak, but as she opens her mouth invisible water enters her system, making her almost choke to a point of no return. She reaches for her neck in pain as tears stream down her face and drip onto the emerald, dulling its shimmer. The salty tears erode the outer layer, and stripped of its beauty the pendant falls, fading in the depths of the black water. The person chortles in a strange, ugly tone and dives after the emerald, disappearing in the dark along with it.

_You are_

Eimi gathers herself and looks around once more. She can see a heap of dark blots in the distance, the little dots seemingly moving. As she walks towards the pile, her senses quickly return to her. She can feel the wind beating her skin, the water freezing her feet and gradually dyeing her body grey. Eimi looks upon the heap, and dread grows in her stomach as she finds that it's an entire hill of insects crawling on a cluster of rock, insects she can't quite identify. Pushing some away in disgust, the rock, or rather, the rosasite, becomes visible. The richly cyan-coloured mineral pulls the girl in, its body growing at rapid tempo along her arms. She struggles loose, the stone crumbling while she stumbles, falling back. The invisible floor suddenly neglects supporting her weight, and Eimi falls deeper down, going underwater. Her vision deserts her as she struggles for a breath, panic overtaking her mind. She reaches for the surface, but to no avail. She sinks deeper, getting pulled down by countless pairs of ghostly pale, thin arms. At last her breath, too, leaves her behind, and she slips into a profound slumber of nothingness.

_ the Third._

_𝕆𝕙 𝕙𝕚 𝕁𝕠𝕙𝕟𝕟𝕪, 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥❜𝕤 𝕦𝕡❔_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a grammar check and cringed at the stereotypical fanfic language in this, I'm so sorry to subject any innocent people to this monstrosity
> 
> no im not


	7. Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gals sip tea and go out into town  
also Eimi is a tortured soul so that too, I guess :'(

The morning is thin and hesitant as it streams through the tall windows, making its presence known. Eimi frees herself from Aislinn's embrace, the blonde girl still asleep. She sits up in the bed, and stares out at the pair of birch trees beyond the window, their branches dancing in the mild breeze of dawn. Eimi thinks of the night that passed, the birches staring back at her with dull black eyes. The stranger, whose unsettling laughter is deeply etched into her brain still haunts her, standing in corners, watching her. The wind, that beat her body with a frustrating amount of apathy, blows through her organs, making her feel hollow. Eimi shivers, remembering that she's wearing only an undershirt and panties. She looks back at Aislinn, her face relaxed and calm and peaceful, and decides to let her sleep in for a little longer. This too will pass.

_It's nothing, I've just been exposed to so many new things lately, this is natural, _Eimi thinks as she stands up and walks over to the wardrobe to get changed into something warmer.

_Think good vibes, Eimi, good vibes..._ she forces a smile, looking at her pale face in the mirror. This time will be better. This time, it'll all be good, and life will be well. 

Aislinn shifts in the bed behind her, turning around for another cycle of sleep. 

* * *

"So you just have to put the loose tea in the cup with hot water, but be mindful about it, like so...," heated water is carefully poured into one of Aislinn's prized porcelain cups as she demonstrates the very difficult process to a befuddled girl. "...Why are you teaching me how to make tea?" Eimi asks, trying to find the answer by staring intensely at Aislinn's graceful movements as she prepares two cups of assam tea. 

Aislinn laughs whilst putting back the jar of tea leaves in the kitchen cabinet. "It isn't just making tea, hun. This," she stands behind the other while she stirs Eimi's tea, "is your introduction to the magnificent world of magic," she finishes while looking at the girl's scrunched-up face, handing her the teaspoon. Eimi looks down at the tea again, staring into the un-depths of the swirling liquid. This is, most definitely, terribly ordinary tea. "Doesn't look much 'magical' to me, miss," she utters puzzled. "We're starting off mild," Aislinn states. 

"As if fairies and leepre- leprecons are mild...," Eimi trails off as she starts stirring the tea a little more.

"Leprechauns_._" Aislinn takes a seat next to her and opens a timeworn notebook, its cover made of a spruce green fabric. Scrolling through it, she gets to the 'tasseography' section and puts it down flipped open on the dining table.

"Yes, that. Thank you. Anyway, is the tea done?"

"It is for now, but don't drink it yet." 

"You know...I'm aware that I was the one that asked you to teach me magic, but I ain't feeling it right now, bro," Eimi says after a while of staring at the tea, doubtful of the practices. 

"Wasn't it the Japanese that consider patience a great virtue?" Aislinn doesn't look up from her notebook, checking the instructions again. "...Maybe...," Eimi mumbles.

"Then, shush thine mouth. Concentrate on the tea."

Eimi nods solemnly. "Concentrate on the tea I will."

"Do you have any questions that you can't quite find the answer to?" Aislinn asks her. 

"Like what?" 

"For example, if you're feeling stuck in life, you might want to ask why that is, and what you can do to move forward," Aislinn explains

Eimi looks at her, and confused she slowly inquires: "Ask...the tea?" Aislinn looks up, now returning Eimi's gaze. "...Got a problem with that?" 

"I mean," Eimi pauses, looking the other way as she chuckles nervously. "No, not at all."

"Hm," Aislinn hums, not convinced. "You don't have to say it aloud, though. Just do it in your head," she continues, picking up her own cup of tea with both hands, closing her eyes and meditating on her own question as demonstration, with Eimi as a curious observer. "'Kay," she says, picking up her cup and copying Aislinn.

After a while she can hear the sound of Aislinn putting her cup back down, and as she opens her eyes, Aislinn quietly asks: "Got it?" Eimi nods. Aislinn smiles at her. "Then, you can drink now, but be mindful, and leave about one finger of liquid for the reading."

"Yes ma'm." 

"And stop the fake compliance," Aislinn calls her out, sending Eimi a scowl from the corner of her eye. 

Eimi stays unfazed, not even bothering to look up from the teacup. "Get fucked, pretty lady."

"That's better," Aislinn sighs, taking a sip of her tea. 

"Now that you've turned your cup upside-down, turn it around counter-clockwise thrice with your right hand."

"...Right hand?" Eimi asks as she watches Aislinn turn her own cup around with her left hand. "Yes, leftie. Use your right hand," Aislinn says, turning her cup back upright. After Eimi has finished the task as well, she starts: "Now then, it is important that you know that the nearer the leaves are to the rim, the sooner they'll happen. So whatever you see in the middle will take the longest time to actually come into being." 

"Got it." 

"That's good," Aislinn mumbles as she nods, more so for herself than to assure the other. "What can you see?" she asks.

Eimi squints as she looks into her cup, focusing on seeing any potential hidden messages sticking to the sides of the cup. "My elven eyes see...a crescent moon...I think...A waxing one?" it is at this moment that Eimi remembers that one thing she is not confident about, among other things, is her intuitive abilities. Aislinn is patient. She always is with Eimi. "Moving to full moon you mean?" she asks, not making light of whatever Eimi sees.

"Uh...yes, I think so." "Waxing it is," Aislinn looks pensive, seemingly reminded of something. "You can look too, you know?" Eimi asks. "That wouldn't do much. I think it's best if you try on your own, you learn most that way," Aislinn explains, thoughtful. "I see...There's also...waves, the sea?" Eimi utters as she studies a particularly squiggly line further down in the cup. Aislinn gives her an encouraging nod. "There's no wrong answer, Eimi."

"What does water stand for again?" Eimi looks up at Aislinn. "Generally, matters regarding emotions." 

"Oh...Seems legit." 

"You're doing great so far," Aislinn compliments her. "I'm okay," Eimi responds, bad with compliments.

"Here," Aislinn hands her a yellowing, old pocket-sized book, saying: "Continue the reading on your own and try to interpret the symbols with a little help from this neat little fella."

"_Another_ book, Aislinn?" Eimi asks, unconvinced. Aislinn only grants her a smile as answer. "Don't forget to take notes." She washes up and leaves the room, Eimi now left behind on her own, one homework assignment richer. 

* * *

"Aissssshie," Eimi is lying upside down on the new settee, looking at Aislinn intently studying a shiny purple potted plant at the desk. "What's up? Finished your tea reading summary?" Aislinn grins as she notices Eimi's elegant position. 

"Not yet...I uh," Eimi sits up. "I think the 'human' has worn off now- here, smell me." she has lifted up her arms, inviting Aislinn, who stays seated with a look of disgust gracing her face. "Yeah, I really don't think that's needed," Aislinn says, rejecting the offer. "Oh. Anyway, can we go out now?" Eimi recovers quickly from the disappointment. Aislinn looks at her strangely, and confused she asks: "We already are, though?"

"Wait, no. I mean go out _into town_, ya doofus," Eimi says, swiftly quelling the anxiety that was rising in Aislinn's stomach. "OH," she looks at her desk, thinking. "I mean, it's fine, but we do have to stick together. There's no telling how some of them will react to you."

Eimi's face lights up. "They'll all get a direct hard-on!!!" she gasps with a ridiculous smile. Aislinn snorts. "Oh, I'm sure." 

Eimi pumps her fist in the air as she walks off victoriously, getting ready whilst Aislinn goes back to her book to finish up the paragraph she was working on before.

* * *

When they arrive at the centre of the island, Eimi sees that their place was most certainly built by the same people that worked on this town, noticing the great overlap in architecture. "Why does it look so..._human_ in here?" 

"Intercultural exchanges. Although, it's mostly one-sided, the fae mostly being the ones that show increasing interest in humanity," Aislinn explains. "Ah-hah...," Eimi studies the buildings' artistry as the two continue walking through the streets, the cobblestone beneath their feet responding to their steps with hollow notes resonating in the air. The buildings of the town show to be more of an odd blent of both Victorian-age and art nouveau type of architectural styles, but this mix somehow stays persistent as far as Eimi's eyes reach. "I have to give it to them though: by the looks of it, the one thing they don't seem to lack consistency in is architecture...," she admits. Aislinn's eyes gleam as she smiles at Eimi. "Doesn't it make your heart fill with pride for them as though they are your own children?" 

"I'd be very concerned if you gave birth to babies that looked like _that_," Eimi says, pointing at a particularly misshapen nose-picking faery, whose skin sogs so much that it covers most of its neck. Aislinn looks as well, wincing as it flicks away some gunk it got out of its nose. "That makes two," she replies, redirecting her attention back on Eimi. "I got my tubes tied." 

"Ah, right. I forgot...," Eimi responds, regretful of running her mouth. "It's fine," Aislinn reassures her, giving her a friendly shove to the arm. She grins and looks at Eimi from the corner of her eye. "Shortie." 

The other gasps as she looks up at her, offended. "It's JUST a _seven centimetre _gap, Aislinn!" 

Aislinn chuckles at that, but her joy soon fades as she turns her head and sees who's dashing toward them. The rude slapping of bare feet on the cobble grows closer quickly, and just when Eimi also turns to the source to look what's up, she's struck with immense force in the stomach, stumbling back. Aislinn quickly prevents her from falling and hitting her head, possibly dying a horrible, pitiful death. "𝕰𝖎𝖒𝖎!! You funky shintoist, you're finally here!!!" the thing, or rather, the person that's responsible for Eimi almost praying to the porcelain god squeaks in her ear, is now also working on decreasing her hearing capabilities by at least thirty percent. "Ugh," Eimi groans, recovering from the shock, she looks at the perpetrator, glaring. "Who the _he_\- Paddy?" The faery beams at her quick recognition of it. "C'est _moi!_" it says, flying up so as to annoy Eimi by being in her face, and quite literally so. "Oh," she winces, trying to outmaneuver the faery that's now attempting to get to her hair. "Hi..." 

Paddy gives up after a few more attempts. "So anyway, you've finally been let out by the evil witch, Eimi! How does it feel? The fresh spring air - well, I mean, not that we got distinct seasons in here, but still - tenderly caressing your skin, The sun lighting up the world, making everything glitter like gold! It's the Tír na nÓg experience, baby!" 

"Uhm," Eimi looks at the spirited creature flailing its limbs wildly mid-air to illustrate its words, perplexed. "I think it's nice here, I really did need to go outside." Aislinn guiltily looks away. "But," Eimi starts, glancing over at Aislinn cringing, "I wouldn't say that Aislinn is an evil witch of any kind, Paddy. That's rude." 

"Oh," Paddy casts its eyes down, but recovers quickly once again, and greets Aislinn respectfully. "Goodday to you, jaded blondie," it nods. "Likewise, cootie," she turns to Eimi, putting her hand on the other's small of her back. "We should go, it's getting late and we still got to get you clean clothes," Aislinn says, looking her in the eyes. Eimi, getting the hint, plays along, relieved. "Yes, we really must go now, Paddy. Nice talking to you, bye!" 

"Wha-wait!! Eimi!_ Why do you forsake me?!_" Paddy wails dramatically, failing to latch onto Eimi, for the iron defenses of Aislinn prevent the fiend from doing so. "I am incredibly, _terribly_ sorry, runt, but this is a two-person job, not a two-and-a-half one," Aislinn mocks the sickly-green creature, holding it back from reaching Eimi with one arm. "Alas, arrivederci," she turns around to follow the other girl and waves goodbye to Paddy. Eimi smiles apologetically at the forlorn figure that has fallen to the cobblestone-paved ground, only a meager fifty centimetres tall with arthropod wings drooping. 

The two bravely continue on their trip out into town, leaving a fallen man behind, unknowing of how many more there will be to come on this journey. 

_My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only proofread this once, oh dear
> 
> Imbolc was neat this year!! great energy to write some lesbian fanfic in the name of the gods


	8. sumeba miyako

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> make-over time my dudes

"The sun's already setting...," Eimi utters, shielding her eyes from the rays gradually deepening in colour. Aislinn looks up, staring directly into the sun for a good second. Wincing, she looks away as Eimi laughs at her. "That scoundrel...held us up for far too long," she grumbles. Turning to Eimi, she says: "Let's hurry, we're almost there." 

"The clothing store? Do they even have those in here?" Eimi asks, seriously doubting the idea of capitalism flourishing on Tír na nÓg. "Sort of...I'd say it's more of a boutique...You'll see," Aislinn says. At the end of the main road they turn left, entering a narrow alleyway where sign-boards hang so low they seem to graze Aislinn's head. At one point, Aislinn turns to Eimi and says 'we're here', causing her to look up at the building they stopped at. At first glance, it doesn't seem too significant of a place, although the delicately decorated sign-board begs to disagree. "'_Royal Boutique - Tír na nÓg_'...Does that_ '_Royal' have any substance?" Eimi asks, impressed by the curly letters painted in golden pigment on the wooden board. Aislinn breathes out a quick "yeah" as reply, smiling. "Aislinn!" Eimi hisses, but it's too late because Aislinn has already pushed the heavy wooden door open, now waltzing inside like nothing is amiss. Stunned, Eimi rushes in after her. "Hi, Caoimhe," Aislinn greets the supposed, but seemingly absent shop owner. "Yes?" A pleasant voice answers to the equally pleasant-sounding name, although Eimi can't see anyone except for them two present. "Oh!" the voice exclaims from behind a colourful pile of frilly, elegant dresses. The owner of the voice quickly pops up, finally showing their awaited visage. "Aislinn! It's been a while!" the woman chirps, light-ginger curls dancing along to her joy. "H-human-sized...," Eimi stutters, tugging on Aislinn's sleeve. "Did you forget about Fallon?" Aislinn whispers back to her before saying, in a higher volume, "Anyway, I brought a guest...with me...I hope you don't mind." As she says this, Aislinn gently nudges Eimi to the front. "Who is this saccharine little darling?" Caoimhe asks, songful. Eimi's first instinct is to get offended at the 'little', before realising that, coming from her, this is an absolutely fair statement, as Eimi notices, with the woman standing in front of her, that Caoimhe is no less than 2 metres tall. Gaping up at her, Eimi can only manage to bring out a weak "nice to meet you". Aislinn quickly notices the disaster, and jumps in with "Caoimhe, this is Eimi," relieving the taken-aback girl of her mandatory introduction. "Ay-mi! You remind me of blueberries," Caoimhe says dreamily. "I-I see?" Eimi stutters. "Anyway," Aislinn cuts in, "Caoimhe. We would like your help with some matter..." 

"Aymi needs new clothes, doesn't she?" the woman replies almost immediately, now slightly jumping up and down on her toes. "...Yes," Aislinn affirms. "Wait," Eimi says, "how did you know?" Caoimhe turns her gaze back to Eimi and grins, a fragment of mischief in her forest green eyes. "Just so," she only says. "What do you have in mind?" she asks Aislinn, already looking for the right colours by swiping through the criminal amount of garments on the table next to the door. "Just make sure she doesn't stand out _too_ much, the rest is up to Eimi herself." 

"Very well," Caoimhe hums, looking at the silk indigo cape in her hands. "Ladies!" she promptly yells out to the back of the store. "We're in dire need of some assistance here!" At that, the laughter of a group of women can be heard, quickly getting closer. Four women, clad in splendid robes, with shiny decorations applied all over their bodies, appear from behind a couple of overcoats hanging from the shingles. As they approach the Tall and the Small, it appears as though they're gliding in the air, not touching the floor. Eimi quickly finds out that this is in fact true, and that they actually don't even let their toes touch the floorboards, seemingly out of great aversion to the concrete world. "Lovely girl! Caoimhe, what a lovely girl!" one with impossibly big eyes squeals. Another one with lingonberry-red hair chimes in, saying, "Caoimhe, Caoimhe, can we dress her up? She's marvelous," ruffling Eimi's hair. The third woman quickly takes over, starting to braid her hair in delicate little fishtails. "Your hair is very healthy, dear...Such deep colour, truly wonderful," she utters softly as she affectionately tends to the very befuddled girl's hair. The fourth however, keeps her hands to herself, and asks Caoimhe: "We help this girl?" 

"Yes, we're going to give her the ultimate make-over," Caoimhe explains. "And you," she says to Aislinn, "need to go. Let the girl transform in peace. You can come back in...," she thinks hard for a second, swiftly giving up on thinking, "well, I'll give you a memo when we're ready!" Aislinn frowns at her, clearly skeptical. Caoimhe, catching on, asserts her power, "You asked _me _for help, you're going to get _my_ help. Leave, Aislinn, or I'll fire raspberries at you until you're so red you have no choice but to leave to go wash yourself, alrighty?" Aislinn opens her mouth to object, only to quickly close it again at the remembering of the height gap between her and Caoimhe. Concerned, she looks at Eimi one last time, saying a soft "bye, Eimi" before turning around and walking out the door, head hanging. "Now that that's done..." Caoimhe starts, hands in her hips. "Aymi...Are you ready...I call this project, 'Butterfly to Blueberry!'" she twirls around on the heel of her flat, looking at Eimi with eyes so bright it hurts Eimi's retinae. "...Wouldn't it be the other way round?" she asks doubtfully. "What? Oh, no, no, we don't do that American series 'girl gets pretty, gets popular' shite in here. We're just going to help you be authentically _you _❤" In order to accentuate her message, Caoimhe presses one slender index finger into Eimi's chest, at the height of her heart. "They say the body is the window to the soul, after all...," the lingonberry-haired woman waxes. "Right...," Eimi says. 

"Well then!" Caoimhe claps in her hands, announcing the start of their project. "Let us commence!"

Eimi isn't sure what happened during the supposed make-over exactly, but looking in the full-length mirror right now, she knows it's probably too much of a hassle to even attempt to remember. "Damn son," she mutters, checking herself out. The women have put her in a layered, flowing dress of uncanny off-white, indigo and light-blue glossy fabrics, decorated with pearls, crystals of which Eimi has seen plenty being carried around by the winged critters on the island and little flowers that seemingly never rot. Even her hair is adorned with the prettiest of feather and flowers, the deep-black colour accentuating the accessories their glamour. She twirls around, noticing the volume of the skirt. "...What's this made of?" Eimi asks, inspecting the impossibly soft but strong material of the petticoat. "'Tis made of the threads our arachnid friends are so kind to spin for us," one of the woman says in a warm voice, smiling. "Huh...," Eimi spins around once more, intrigued but very satisfied. Turning to the four underlings of Caoimhe, she says: "I love it, thank you so much!" following up with "You too, Caoimhe," to their leader. "You're welcome, sweetie-sweet," she smiles, proud of the work accomplished. "Well then, now it's time we'll unite the pretty birds, won't we?" Caoimhe asks one of the four tailors standing next to her. The other nods enthusiastically. Caoimhe disappears behind some hanging dresses, only to reappear with a glass jar filled with dancing little lights. "Let's send Firefly-sie on its way then," she coos at one of the bugs she took out of the jar, giving it little air kisses. The wide-eyed woman opens a window in the front of the store, and Caoimhe lets the firefly flutter away into the chilly night air. "That's going to do it?" Eimi asks, curiously rather than mockingly. "Yup. Your lovebird will be here any minute now." The words haven't even left Caoimhe's mouth or Aislinn bursts through the door, out of breath. "Never seen you move so fast, dear! Watch your heart," Caoimhe says. "Don't mind...," Aislinn stops halfway as she gathers her breath and notices Eimi. She stands still, gaping at the dressed-up girl for a solid minute, before Eimi asks, "Aislinn? You okay?" Aislinn gets back to reality, barely able to express, whilst still panting, an embarrassingly sincere "you're...breathtaking...". Eimi's heart participates in a gymnastics competition as she can feel her face burn like a thousand suns. "_Aislinn!!_" 

"I...Uh," Aislinn nervously looks around the room only to notice the shit-eating grins of the tailors and their leader, making her quickly gather herself. "I'm not lying, Eimi, you look amazing," she directs her attention back to the girl, complimenting her from the bottom of her heart. "Thank you," Eimi smiles shyly. Aislinn snaps out of the infatuation that follows swiftly, remembering their surroundings. "We, uh, we should get going. It's very late," she coughs. "Right," Eimi replies, face burning up once again. "Right!! Go, go!" the wide-eyed tailor yells excitedly. "Also, here's some more pieces!" another one of the women says, this one with flaxen hair, holding up a small hill of more glittering, silky garments. "Can I...get that bagged?" Eimi asks, looking at the pile in mild horror. 

The walk home turned out to be nicer than Eimi expected. They only exchanged about three words the entire way back to the house, but it was peaceful. When Eimi looked up for a moment as they were crossing the flower fields, she let out a gasp of surprise. The sky, incredibly clear, was showing off its finest jewels to the two, without restraint. Aislinn smiled at her and said, "You have to watch your step, Eimi. You can star-gaze as much as you'd like when we're home."

They ended up sitting down in the doorway of the French doors that lead to the terrace, overlooking the garden, and not far beyond that, the forest.

"I'm seeing it again now, and yet I can't get over it...it's so...clear and bright...," Eimi gapes at the vast cover of the night, a sky turned as black as ink highlighting the small and less small shimmering white dots, in clouds-like formations of colours, painting a work of art that demands contemplation.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Aislinn smiles as she leans back, admiring the night-sky as well. "Not just nice, _wonderful_, really," Eimi muses tenderly. "_Breathtaking_, even," Aislinn adds in a playful tone, grinning at the other. Eimi laughs. "I wish this could last forever," she sighs. 

A soft smile has touched Aislinn's face, and the two lie in peaceful quiet for a while, under an overwhelmingly expansive field of stars. "I'll do my best, Eimi," Aislinn says after a while, her voice intimate. Eimi turns her head to look at the other. "With what?"

"With being there, with you." As Eimi watches Aislinn's face, she notices the slight flush on her face, even in the dark.

Eimi smiles, the happiness making its way to her eyes. "Thank you," she says, her eyes glowing with bliss. Aislinn looks at her, showing a toothy smile. 

"Aislinn?" Eimi's voice is already growing hoarse, a sign that sleep is near.

"...Mmyeah?"

"_You're_ breathtaking," she says.

Aislinn laughs sleepily. 

"Maybe we all are."

_Wherever you live, you come to love it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some parts of this are a bit awkward and I could fix it but I want to get this out before it takes another week HAH ugh so stressed


	9. At sixes and sevens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silence falls over the two as Eimi refuses to meet Aislinn's eyes, the only sound being the rustling of the birch's leaves in the breeze.
> 
> "For how long?"
> 
> "...What?" Eimi looks at Aislinn in surprise.
> 
> Aislinn stares at her own hands as she rephrases her question. "No...Has this been going on the entire time?"
> 
> Eimi winces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bro I wanna go to Mont Saint-Michel so bad  
(I only beta-read this once in its entirety)

The morning is heavy and eerily still as Eimi awakes in a jolt, an adrenaline rush surging through her veins. She finds that the crying of a cat was in fact not part of her nightly terror, but rather the trigger that woke her up. Ignoring the cold that's teasing her skin, Eimi tries to locate the source, figuring that it's coming from the forest. Distraught, she stands up and runs towards the forest's edge, feet growing colder by every step. The sudden absence of Eimi causes Aislinn to wake as well, and sleepily she looks around, trying to find the other. "Blurry!" Eimi yells. 

Confused, Aislinn stands up as well, and hurries toward her. "Eimi? What's going on?" 

"_BLURRY!!!" _

"What the hel- Eimi?! Are you okay?"

Eimi scans the woods, the panic quickly getting worse. As the crying starts up again, she turns to Aislinn. "Don't you hear that?!"

"What?" Aislinn looks towards the forest, but notices nothing out of the ordinary. 

"The-! There's a cat, crying, it-it's in pain!" Eimi splutters.

"Eimi," Aislinn shushes her and gets the girl to face her. "Eimi, I...I didn't hear anything," she says carefully.

Eimi's eyes widen. Flustered, she quickly looks down. "I..."

"Hey," Aislinn bends over so she can see Eimi's face. "Hey, it's okay. Maybe I just didn't hear it because I was still asleep?" she asks, her voice soothing. 

_But that's a lie. _Eimi whips her head back up, causing Aislinn to startle slightly. "I think...I need to rest. I'm going inside," she holds her forehead with one hand, looking pained. Before turning around and walking back to the house, she says: "I'll be fine, really. No need to worry."

Aislinn watches her enter the house, her figure pale, shivering and slumped. Glancing back at the forest, Aislinn can't hear anything strange even when straining her ears.

Eimi's body feels heavy as she climbs into the bed. Falling down onto her pillow, she lets out a deep breath, rotten with her sorrow. She can feel sleep taking over swiftly, and surrenders to the temporary comfort. "It'll be fine...," she mutters before closing her eyes.

The ghostly white arms return, bringing with them a message she knows so well and is so very familiar with, but denies in the face of her present happiness.

_... Happiness._

_Am I happy?_

_I don't know._

Eimi's attention is pulled towards her lungs. She can feel inky black swirling inside them, stirring her every thought.

One of the foreign hands caresses her cheek.

_...No._

_ I do know._

Then, everything seems to accelerate as she can feel the strange substance well up at once. _Not again,_ Eimi thinks tiredly, sick of drowning. As it travels through the throat, through the mouth, she can feel the suffocating sensation growing worse by the second, and with that, the emotions she's kept inside quickly become too much for her to keep locked away. Struggling she lets out a loud, earsplitting cry. The arms retract at lightning speed, and everything becomes real again. She jolts awake, heaving and sweating profusely.

As she gathers herself, Eimi notices that Aislinn is sitting next to her, worried.

"What's going on with you, Eimi?"

Eimi curls into herself to a frowning Aislinn watching her. "Nothin' much," she mumbles, the words muffled by her nightie and the sheets. 

"Please don't lie."

She tilts her head back up and stares to the side, at the window with curtains half-drawn, the birches outside ogling her. 

"I'm...not okay, Aislinn," she mutters. 

Silence falls over the two as Eimi refuses to meet Aislinn's eyes, the only sound being the rustling of the birch's leaves in the breeze.

"For how long?"

"...What?" Eimi looks at Aislinn in surprise.

Aislinn stares at her own hands as she rephrases her question. "No...Has this been going on the entire time?"

Eimi winces. She gives a small nod.

"You know...It's been with me for a long time now, even since before I came to New York...But, after you...," she swallows hard, "left,it got worse again..."

Aislinn looks at the small-looking girl in front of her in disbelief. "My god, Eimi, I..."

"Do I still hurt you?" Aislinn asks quietly after a short, heavy silence.

"Sometimes," Eimi admits truthfully. "I hate how you always only give half of the information when I want to know something, the vagueness is what bothers me." she plays with her hands in her lap.

"...Isn't it better for me to not be around you anymore...," Aislinn mutters as she turns away from Eimi.

Eimi's heart drops. "What?" quickly, she grabs Aislinn's arm before she can take another step towards the door. Desperate, she pleads as tears once again spring up and fall onto her nightie. "No, no! Didn't you just say that you'd do your best in staying by my side? Don't leave me again," her voice dies as the crying intensifies. 

"Eimi...," Aislinn struggles to keep herself from crying as well. "You know I'm no good...Not for you..." 

"_DON'T BREAK YOUR PROMISE,_" Eimi is shocked by her own volume, but keeps her eyes locked on Aislinn's. "Not the very day after you made it," she breathes out, utterly forlorn. 

The dam breaks and Aislinn starts sobbing. Eimi's grip on her arm has weakened, but she doesn't want to leave anymore. Returning to the bed, she envelops Eimi in a hug. Countless soft sorrys escape Aislinn's lips as she caresses the other, apologetic in her movements.

"Aislinn, Aislinn," Eimi giggles with puffy eyes after a while of the doting. "That's enough apologising for the next century," she says. "It's not," Aislinn sulks, refusing to fully let go of her. Eimi smiles. "Just don't leave me behind anymore," she says gently, but the words bear a deep sense of desperation. Aislinn holds her tighter. "I won't."

* * *

"You knew this, didn't you?"

The woman sitting in the chair at the library's table turns around to look at Aislinn standing behind her.

"We've been watching her since the beginning. Of course we knew," she says, fox-like eyes glazed over with a cold sheen. "Fallon!" Aislinn exclaims, uncrossing her arms in the desperation. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asks, voice cracking. 

Fallon turns back to face the book in front of her again, making Aislinn only able to see the back of her head. Silky silver hair reflects the rays of light coming in through the tall windows of the library as she speaks. "You, of all people, should know that we are not good samaritans, Aislinn." Fallon's voice is low and reverberates through the grand space.

She tilts her head and looks up at Aislinn from the corner of her eye. "That includes you," she smiles thinly. 

"I know, I fucking know, we're not at Mont Saint-Michel, God, I'm aware!" Aislinn starts pacing around, gesturing wildly with her arms to accentuate her anguish. "It's just, all you had to say was: 'Hey, just so you know, Eimi has issues! _Really_ bad ones! Look out for that!' It's common _goddamn_ courtesy, Fallon," she cries, now far past the point of breaking down. 

"...I would have told you, you know...," Fallon's face has turned stern. "But they..."

Aislinn is seething. "_What_ did they want, Fallon?" a question that sounds more like a threat than anything.

"Let's just say that they wanted to'watch the drama unfold in all its glory'," Fallon says, not looking the other in the eye.

"_Fuck_," Aislinn hisses. She turns around and rushes to the door, but Fallon quickly runs after her. "Aislinn!" she yells, trying to stop her. "_WHAT?_"

"I know you're beyond angry, but...don't go to the palace in this state," she tries to reason with Aislinn.

Aislinn scoffs. "Oh, because you want to keep up _appearances_?"

Fallon looks at the other with teary eyes, and softly she pleads, "No, no. I don't...want you to get yourself into mess that you won't be able to get out of."

Aislinn stands perfectly still for a moment, the only sound being their breaths. Then, she speaks up. "Bring me to the palace." 

"...You won't leave, will you?" Fallon asks sadly.

Aislinn's breath hitches, but evens out swiftly. "I won't be gone for long," she mumbles, and pushes open the heavy library door. 

* * *

"Eimi."

"Wha-! Fallon? Why the hell are you in the windowsill?" 

Fallon jumps inside the room, coming down with a surprisingly light thud. 

"You humans are such curious creatures," she takes a seat on the chair next to the window and stares at the birch tree outside. Eimi replies habitually, squinting at the other in confusion. "...Okay?..."

"You preach making peace with the idea of inescapable decay, you preach positivity about the fragility of life, and yet," she picks up a fallen leaf from the windowsill and twirls it with two fingers, observing the movement intently, "you hide in your little dark shells, crying about the tragic inevitability of it all, drowning yourself in feelings of numbness and all things sad. And then you get back up, and then something bad happens again, and then you crawl back into yourself again, like some wounded animal. And then again, and again, and again."

Eimi bites her lip. "Fallon, if this is all to scold me, I'm not really in the mood-" "Sh, I'm not here to scold you," Fallon interrupts her, having walked over to the girl and putting the leaf to her lips in a way of shushing her. Dropping the leaf to the ground, Fallon, in a moment of emotional sincerity, speaks. "I might never understand, no matter how much time I spent and have yet to spend among the queer lot of you, but I do know that I can at least try to make it a little better." 

"Fallon, what-...?"

The woman turns away from Eimi and pulls something out from under her cape. "Unlike most other inhabitants of this isle, I do not commend fucking around with a depressed patient's mental health," she faces Eimi again, with a white ball of fluff held up in one hand. It quickly uncurls into a slightly less formless blob, and electric blue meets light brown as Eimi looks into its eyes. 

"I'm about 88% sure the rascal still retains its memory of you, but no guarantee." 

Eimi takes Blurry from her as though the cat is made of fine china. 

"I...How did you...," Eimi asks, shocked. "Don't question magic, sweet, and just take the damn brat. It didn't stop biting my ass in there, apparently it hates me now," Fallon says. 

As she looks down at the cat in her arms, and its trusting, vibrant blue eyes looking up at her, Eimi knows that this is, in fact, Blurry. How or why Fallon brought it back is a mystery, Eimi decides, that doesn't need answering. She feels tears well up and, for the first time in a long while, she voluntarily lets them roll down her cheeks as much as needed.

"Oh dear, you are getting particularly mucous. I have a handkerchief somewhere...I think..." but Eimi keeps her from being able to search any further by pulling her into a hug, with Blurry sandwiched in between the two. "Thank you-uu...," Eimi sniffles. Fallon decides on reciprocating the hug after a while, realising that keeping your arms down is more awkward than hugging back. She carefully pats the weeping girl's back. "It's fine. I should've done this earlier, anyway." 

Fallon walks back to where she entered the room and climbs onto the windowsill. Before she's able to jump off, out of the house, Eimi breaks the silence. "Fallon? I still have one question."

"What is it?"

"You mentioned 'you humans', but when...we first met, in the swamp, you told me that you're human as well," Eimi says whilst playing with Blurry's fur. 

Fallon grimaces. "I said that to make you come with me."

Eimi looks up. "Then, was that a lie?"

Fallon averts her gaze. "If you think of it as one."

Eimi stands up, with Blurry still in her arms, and walks over to stand behind Fallon. "Well, I think you're different from the others," she says. 

Fallon looks at the sky, watching the clouds pass by for a little before replying. "That's because you've only met small fry." grinning, she turns her head and looks down at Eimi and Blurry. "I've got to go now. Got things to meet, people to do, oh, _so many people to do_, you have no idea. Anyway, enjoy your me-time, Eimi." 

Fallon jumps out the window before Eimi can say anything. 

"It still feels like you're at least somewhat human though...," she mumbles, peering out of the window, failing to spot anything that even remotely looks like Fallon. 

_Keep 1,5 m distance from each other, lads_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a very uplifting chapter, but hey we're all at home anyway so might as well read it eh? ;o
> 
> Also Eimi's not /that/ short that Aislinn has to bend over, but at that point Eimi was completely hiding her face with her hair, in fact the height difference is only about 7 cm (a little less than 3 inches), just thought I'd clear that up
> 
> Re-reading this I know it seems that I've written Aislinn as some sort of gaslighter I'm sorryyy she'll be better in the future I swear this is all just build-up


	10. Ik heb geen spreekwoorden meer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aislinn hurries to the palace, furious, only to be sat down by a crusty pal urging her to reconsider things.  
Meanwhile, Eimi is having the time of her life with the white ball of fur now returned to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to toot my own horn, but I love Turlough

The contrast between Aislinn's sour mood and the heaven-like landscape stretching out around her is practically theatrical. Already having left town, she is now making her way to the palace, located at the centre of the island. The rumbling sound of the tempest within her mind overpowers the chirping of the birds and the crunch of her feet crushing the gravel on the road. 

"Howya, 'Linnie?" 

Aislinn jumps as a gruff voice greets her. "Turlough?" Aislinn notices the short fellow that has fallen into step beside her. "Aye," he eyes her with a curious look. "What's bugging you?" 

Aislinn's eyes immediately harden again and she lets out a tense sigh. "_Nothing_," she says as her pace quickens. "Hey, hey!!" Turlough yells as he struggles to keep up with her. "Calm a li'l and tell me what's with you. I'm like, yer dad," he pants. 

"Ew," Aislinn cringes. 

"Yeah, that doesn't sound too good now that I think about it," he admits, frowning. "But that's not important. Why are ya so glarey?" 

"I'm just," she pauses, trying to gather her thoughts. "I'm just pissed off because the _fuckers_ over at the palace have been playing games behind my back." 

Turlough's face stays unchanging. "Don't they do that all the time though?" 

"I know- Just, that's not it. They've been playing with Eimi's mental health, and that's why I'm so fucking _angry,_" Aislinn's pace doesn't quicken but she sure as hell puts more energy into her steps, forming clouds of the gravel's dust in her wake. She glares at the horizon, quietly confessing, "Eimi...she has been having these horrible nightmares ever since I got here. She'll wake up in cold sweat looking like death whenever she does. This morning, she heard sounds that weren't actually there. And that's probably not even all there is to it," she grits her teeth. The man looks up at her, gaze understanding but stern. "Turlough, I had no idea all this was happening. I thought it was fine, I thought...," she can feel a pang in her heart. 

"You thought she was healthy even without you?" 

Aislinn nods, not looking his way. 

"Phew, sounds like a lot of trouble you got there. Child, this old fella's fucking exhausted and in dire need of a wee resting, join me? I got some cheese and Mother's Ruin," giving the girl no chance to refuse, he already plopped down on a conveniently placed tree trunk on the side of the road, opening his knapsack and taking out a medium-sized block of cheese. Aislinn reluctantly sits down beside him, accepting a bit of the food. "I think you've realised by now that it was a mistake on your part to assume the lassie's state of health," Turlough talks erratically in between bites of cheese. Aislinn winces. "Yes..." 

"Of course you do. You're a smart girl. Anyhow," he takes out two flasks of gin from the knapsack, putting one in her free hand, "I don't know much about this matter, but I _have_ seen you two together. I cannot- and _should_ not- say that you had no way of knowing, because that girl's livelihood is, at least for a major part of it, dependent on your presence." He unscrews the flask's cap, taking a sip of the alcohol. "But," he starts, looking Aislinn in the eyes, "it is indeed low on those guys' parts to hide that knowledge from you when they were fully aware of the fact all along. But you can't control that, Aislinn. They're fae, after all. You've got no power regarding their conduct. And this is coming from _me_, a leprechaun for Queen's sake!" 

Hearing the fact, Aislinn reddens in embarrassment and frustration. "I know, but they're just so...Fallon especially, I really believed she was better than that. They're like loose cannons, not knowing _when_ _to stop_," she grips the tree trunk, her fingers white. "You've been played some unfair cards, but there's no fighting the hierarchy in here, Aislinn dear. It will only hurt _you_, instead of your targets." Aislinn glares, reminded of her past situation. "And here I hoped I had escaped from a world like that...," she mutters, just out of the hearing range of the mildly-deaf man sitting next to her.

"I understand that you feel shite right now, but rein it in and think of the things that are really important, like staying by your dove's side. She's a sweet girl, that one. You mustn't lose a gem like that." Aislinn stares at a slug crossing the road. She nods, more to herself than anything. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." 

"I love her," she utters. 

"That's obvious," Turlough says, putting the flask to his lips. 

Aislinn frowns, suddenly realising a question had been floating around in the back of her mind all this time. "By the way, why are you heading to the palace as well? Going to request an audience with the Queen or something?" she asks, curiosity getting the better of her. "Nah," Turlough replies, taking another swig of alcohol. "I'm going to apply for the vacancy at the royal blacksmith that opened up after my mate drank himself to death a couple o' somethings ago."

"...Should you really be getting hammered if he died from alcohol overdose?" the girl asks, genuinely concerned.

"'Twasn't alcohol, dearie," Turlough simply states. At that knowledge, she takes a sip of the gin as well. "He got waterboarded." Aislinn spits out the contents of her mouth. She coughs and, shocked, she asks, "Wh-_what?_"

"I'm not drunk enough to give you more details. Also, you should get off your bum and head back home," Turlough slaps her roughly on the back. "Yes, okay," Aislinn gathers herself and wipes her mouth. Standing up, she thanks the leprechaun kindly for his support and cheese, and turns back the way they came to make her way home.

After having taken a couple of steps however, Aislinn is reminded of something. She flips back around to the diminutive man. "Turlough."

"Ye?" Turlough looks up from his now empty flask. 

"You're maybe not a dad, but you _can_ be my drunk uncle," Aislinn grins. She swiftly turns back around and continues walking home. 

"As if I'd be happy with a title like that, you dope," Turlough chuckles softly. 

* * *

"You look _stunning_," Eimi says, in awe of the beauty in front of her. 

"Meow," said beauty replies. Though human speech is incomprehensible, it knows when to make a sound to emulate a conversation. "_Yes_," Eimi affirms meaningfully. She's dressed Blurry up like the princess it truly is, in silky pink fabrics and shiny pearl necklaces. "Well then, let's get the cake out. I think it's about ready now," Eimi says, getting up from the wooden floor and heading to the kitchen. 

The scent of baked goods immediately fills the house the second Eimi opens the rusty metal door of the oven. "You better like it, since it's my first attempt at using sigils," Eimi says as she takes the freshly-baked pear cake out whilst Blurry circles her legs. The cat jumps onto the table as soon as Eimi puts the cake down. "Not yet, it needs to cool, dummy," Eimi lightly taps Blurry's nose as a way of warning it. As she undoes the tie of her apron, the sound of the front door being opened echoes through the quiet home.

"Aislinn?" Eimi peeks into the hallway. Seeing that it was indeed Aislinn, she beams. "Welcome home, how was it?"

The girl silently envelops her in a hug. "I'm sorry."

"Why're you apologising?" Eimi pats her back, smiling softly.

Aislinn looks at the cat circling her legs as a greeting, confused as to how it got in the house, but ignores it in favour of more important matters. Looking Eimi in the eyes, she confesses. "Eimi, to be frank, I was about to go off again- no, I _did_," she lets out a shaky breath. "Why did you-" Eimi starts, wide-eyed. "I went to Fallon first thing, Eimi. Asked her whether she- _they,_ know what's...you know, going on with you ever since I've been here." Eimi stays silent, looking at her. "And of course they _do_, so I stormed out like that, to the palace," Aislinn cringes at her own past actions. 

"What made you turn back?" the question came soft, without any hint of a grudge. 

Taken aback, Aislinn responds in a near-whisper. "I-Turlough talked me out of it...He said that I should think of the truly important things..."

"Let's go to the living room first." 

And so they go sit down on the couch, Aislinn too ashamed to sit too close. Eimi smiles sadly. 

After a couple of seconds of a heavy interlude, Eimi spoke. 

"You know, I'm glad that you told me," she looks at her hands in her lap. 

Her throat feels dry like coarse sand as she tries to speak. 

"Say, you...basically got kidnapped, right?"

"I guess you could say that...But they didn't fuck with me like how they did with you, so it's not really comparable in that aspect at all...," Aislinn replies, puzzled. 

"That doesn't matter, I just wanted to confirm...I know that I might've made you make a promise that's...," she fidgets. "That's quite _heavy_, uhm...You know, _'stay with me'_..."

"I mean, yeah. That's something I promised on my own volition as well," Aislinn replies. 

"Well, how do I say this," Eimi fiddles with her hands. "That's quite extreme, isn't it? You know, I was quite paranoid, uhm...I'm quite embarrassed of my own past actions too, because I really don't want you to stay with me out of guilt, or on basis of a dramatic promise born of desperation and pity, y'know?" She looks up at Aislinn, looking for response in her eyes. 

"You want me to forget the promise?" Aislinn asks. 

"I guess sort of, of course I want to stay together, but I think we both cannot use the weight of something like that right now, don't you? Besides, you never really _left_ back then, uhm, so it doesn't really make sense, that sort of thing...," Eimi trails off, not sure of what more to say. 

"...I see," Aislinn replies after a little while, relaxing her shoulders. They sit in quiet for a little while, before Aislinn lets out a tense breath she'd been holding, bending to rest her head on Eimi's lap. Eimi takes her hand, playing with her fingers. 

"How are you feeling?" Aislinn asks, looking at their intertwined hands. "Still not great," Eimi admits. "But," she leans over and gives Aislinn a peck on the lips, grinning, "right now, I'm happy." Aislinn suddenly feels something mildly heavy land on her stomach. "_What-,_" she stops, looking straight into two big, bright-blue eyes. "Blurry wants to get to know you," Eimi laughs as the cat carefully approaches Aislinn's face, readying to headbutt her chin. "...We've got a cat now?" Aislinn asks. 

"Yeah, I got it back from Fallon after it died." 

Aislinn narrows her eyes at that, eyeing the cat on her breast suspiciously. "...Fallon? That you?" 

Eimi chuckles. "It's just a cat, Aislinn."

"...Are you sure?" "Very sure."

Aislinn sighs, giving in to the cat trying to become acquainted. Patting its head, she says, "I suppose we're housemates now, Blurry." 

"You both better get along or you won't get cake," Eimi warns them, although she's certain they'll get along just perfectly. "So that's what I was smelling," Aislinn's eyes light up in realisation. Eimi beams. "It's pear cake. I tried sigil magic!" 

"You're really so diligent," Aislinn smiles to herself as she closes her eyes in relaxation. 

"I really want to try it, but for now...let's just stay like this for a little...," she mutters, about to doze off. Eimi too, can feel herself relax, sinking into the cushions of the couch. She closes her eyes, bathing in the sun streaming in through the window. 

_So nice..._

"AISLINGG EHWHJGBKAJHLG-" Fallon screams as she bursts into the living room, scaring the living shit out of the two and causing Blurry to escape to the outside via the window. 

"_What the** fuck **Fallon??_" Aislinn exclaims as Eimi got the breath knocked out of her and is now trying to calm down her heart going ham.

"THE QUEEN- THE- Th-e...," Fallon is breathless and her eyes stand wild. The two immediately notice the urgency behind her maniacal expression. "Fuck...We've gott- we've gotta go. Queen's calling. Gotta do a crisis ceremony...or somethin'. Pirates are here," Fallon's breathing stabilises and she turns around with an exhausted gesture of the hand.

"Pirates?" Aislinn asks. "Are you joking?"

Fallon swirls back around and points to her own face with vigour. "Does _this face_ look like I'm joking?" she snarls.

"All the time." Eimi is the one to reply with a perfectly straight face.

Stunned, both Fallon and Aislinn stare at her for a solid second. 

"Oh, sorry, was that rude? I thought it'd be fine..." Eimi apologises, embarrassed.

Still looking at Eimi, baffled, Fallon explains: "...With 'pirates', I mean that there's some blokes -**_your_** kind, might I add- fishing a little too close for comfort to the island." 

"Humans?" Eimi asks.

"Yeah. Your kind." Fallon walks towards the door. "Anyway, Aislinn and I ought to be present at the palace as soon as possible to prevent them from catching wind of this island existing."

At that, Aislinn hesitantly gets up from the couch, looking at Eimi with a frown. 

"Would you...like to come with?" she asks. "_Really?_ I can?" Eimi had resigned to her fate of being home alone, but being given the option is like a breath of very oxygen-rich fresh air.

Aislinn smiles. "If you want to." 

Eimi glances at Fallon. "But I'm not sure whether that's-"

"It's fine. You can't accompany us when we're doing the job, though, but the place has got enough to see for a seedling like you," Fallon says, shrugging.

Bliss makes Eimi smile wide. "Then I will!"

_I'm out of proverbs_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking back on all the shit I wrote so far, I forgot why I was punishing Aislinn so hard in this but I have a creeping feeling like it's something that originated from self-hatred but anyway now I love <3333 myself so I changed the direction the story was going xoxo also because the characters don't deserve the suffering and I don't want to write angst anymore
> 
> Actual note though: I have started working on a webcomic (my art and scripting skills aren't as bad as my fanfiction writing I swear) so I cannot update this very regularly. As it's looking right now, summerhouse will have about 20 chapters (although that's pushing it a little, I want to keep it relatively short for what it is or it will lose effect) so it will take a while for me to complete this. I noticed that I prefer to upload longer chapters, so you will actually get more worth for your 'money' in that sense as I will make the chapters a little longer from now on. 
> 
> Stay safe and healthy dearies!


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